I've Got Your Back - You've Got Mine
by TerryJ
Summary: Pre-Series & Episode Tags from Det. Baker's PoV. How did Abigail Baker become the commissioner's right hand woman and what does she observe about NYC's 'First Family of Law Enforcement? Season 1 episode tags start chap 19, 2 in chap 29, 3 in chap 37, 4 in Chap 46, 5 in Chap 55 & 6 in 64... WIP
1. Prologue

The sound of two glasses clinking echoed through the tomb like room as he removed them from their hiding spot in the book case.

The sun was setting, casting the room in a golden glow and Frank's eyes lingered the shadows cast by the items on the shelves.

He didn't turn as the door opened behind him. There was a pause as his right hand woman looked at the empty desk then the clearing of the throat when she spotted him as he stepped away from the wall.

"Sir?" A small facial tick was all that gave away Baker's uncertainty.

Frank smiled disarmingly, "Come on in Detective."

She took another step in, letting the door swing closed behind her, eyes not leaving the commissioner as he turned back to pour a finger of scotch into each of the two glasses.

He placed the bottle down with a quick tightening of the cap and straightened, holding out one glass to her.

With a tilt of her head she accepted the glass but did not bring it to her lips.

Frank nodded, understanding the silent question, "Just thought we could take a moment." He smiled sadly at her, "It's our anniversary after all."

* * *

 _**A/N - I am fascinated by Baker's character and her relationship with her boss. At several points throughout the show he makes a point of asserting that she is a highly qualified detective, complete with a medal of honor - so how what was her path to her current position?_

 _So much of her character comes from not what she says but the silent looks exchanged between her and Frank, like a sideline commentary. And there are times that, while always respectful, she pushes the typical boundaries one might expect of someone in her role._

 _I don't see anything romantic there but there is definite respect and a deeper connection implying a history between the two of them, this is a story exploring that history._

 _This story is told much from Det. Baker's point of view but is Frank-centric even though he doesn't reappear until Chap 3.**_


	2. Trapped

~~15 years earlier, September 11, 2001~~

Abbey could not hide the flinch as she heard what was now the unmistakable sound of another body crashing to the pavement outside the portico doors of the North Tower of the World Trade Center.

She scanned through the makeshift FDNY command post looking for anyone in blue.

"Mickey!" she shouted to her partner, coming from around the corner.

The patrolmen looked up at the sound of his name, "You okay?"

She nodded, "Yeah, My radio is just on the fritz."

"I know." Her TO gestured to his lapel mic, "The repeaters must have taken a beating, a lot of gibberish and static getting through."

She nodded, "So what's going on? These FD guys don't seem to have a straight evacuation call."

"Yeah." Mickey pulled her aside, "Some brass just came through. We're ditching the partial evac plan, ariel thinks some of tower 2 will actually collapse. Fire is going up to do what they can with what's burning upstairs and we're supposed to pull out the folks from the lower floors that had previously been told to stay put."

Abbey tried to focus as she winced at the sound of breaking glass.

Mickey looked to the source of the sound, "Windows have been cracking all over the place."

She nodded absently, "So where do we go?"

Before Mickey could answer someone hollered, "You two!"

The two patrol officers turned to see Deputy Inspector Bell gesturing at them. They quickly drew up and moved over. "Sir." "Yes, Sir?"

"You 10-98?"

Mickey nodded, "We were just about to help clear the 2nd and 3rd floor."

"Negative." Jim Bell shook his head, "We've cleared the PATH station. Assume post at the rear entrance; no civilians. Everyone is to go out via the roads, no one is to go down there."

Mickey nodded, "Copy that boss."

"Good." Bell's attention was diverted as a man in an NYPD wind breaker entered the building with a priest.

Abbey tilted her head in confusion, "I thought we were securing the building from civilians."

The D.I. turned his head back to her, "It's a FDNY chaplain; we can use all the help we can get today."

With a tight nod of understanding Abbey swallowed her retort, "10-4. We'll go secure the station sir."

The inspector was no longer acknowledging them as he jogged after the new comer.

She sighed and turned back to Mickey who shrugged, "Let's go babysit a door."

Shortly after, they had checked on each of the auxiliary doors to the platform and situated themselves at the bottom of the escalator. Abbey was about to comment about how odd it felt to have such a passive assignment when a deep vibration and rumble like a freight train set them off their feet.

The two officers looked wide eyed at one another.

Mickey fidgeted with his radio, "Nothing. I got nothing, you?"

Abbey pulled hers off of her belt and flicked through the stations, shaking her head. "This is 9-Donald 10-66 at WTC Tower 1. Requesting Report."

Nothing but static came through and even that could barely be heard over the din of noise overhead.

"What do we do?" She looked up the still escalator, making out just the edges of several FDNY helmets running through the lobby.

Mickey, took a deep breath through his nose before squaring up with his partner, "Look, I may have more years on the job than you but I got nothing preparing me for this. We received an order to secure this area and that's what I'm going to do until told otherwise."

She nodded but Mickey shook his head, "I dunno though, you're smarter than me and there's no roadmap." He looked over her shoulder, up the stairs again, "We don't know that inspector and he's never gunna know if we stood our post or not. Hell, he may be ordering us to go but with these radios being what they are there's no way of knowing. If your spidey sense is telling you it's time to bug out and find a different assignment I ain't going to be the one to stop ya."

Abbey swallowed. She looked up the stairs and back to Mickey. "Never leave your partner." Her voice wavered but her resolve was firm.

Her partner gave a lopsided grin, "This ain't a regular day."

She shrugged, "A smart guy once told me 'If you can't count on your partner to stick by your side no matter the situation, then what's the point?'"

"Alright." he nodded, "But if we come through this day having done nothing but stand in front of a door we're going to have to make up some war stories."

She chuckled and straightened up. "Okay, well we didn't cover creative writing at John Jay so I'll leave the day dreaming to you."

Mickey began laughing to himself, "Aw man, c'mon. With all this chaos and all that brass running around, I bet we could really dream up some good ones..."

He was cut off as the mic on their radios began to squabble unintelligibly putting both officers instantly on alert.

"Can you understand it?"

"No, can you?"

"Damn it!"

Mickey grimaced, "Alright, tell you what, I'mma just run to the top of the stairs here, see if there's better reception."

"Okay." Abbey nodded and watched Mickey scramble up the stairs.

"OH SHI..." Was the last thing she heard from him as the rumble returned, louder than previously and suddenly a dark cloud of dust and debris surrounded the stairwell and everything went black.


	3. Escape

Abbey spluttered and shook her head, wiping vigorously at her eyes.

She took a quick personal inventory and told herself that she was okay, nothing had landed on her short of what fell like a beach worth of dust. She spat it out best she could and looked around, unable to see anything in the sudden darkness.

She fumbled for her light on her duty belt. "Mickey!" She shouted, "Mickey!"

Casting her light around her the narrow stairwell and alcove of their post had been caved in with what looked like hunks of steel and cement and office furniture.

Getting her breath back she tried again on her radio, "9-Donald. 10-66, 10-13, WTC Tower 1 Rear stairwell to PATH Station."

She paused, silence.

"9-Donald to central."

"9-Donald to central."

"9-Donald to Officer McIntyre."

"9-Donald to anyone!"

She rubbed her hands over her face and focused on steadying her breathing. She tightened her jaw and pulled up the little bit of ESU training they reviewed at the academy. No time for freaking out.

Pushing aside the small pieces around her, she began to climb the frozen escalator, flashing her light around for a gap she might be able to climb through.

The top of the stairs was bridged by a large executive desk. Beautiful dark wood. Not mahogany, maybe teak. It looked like the kind of desk that the one in her father's office tried to mimic but his was just cheap particle board, this was the real thing.

Mindlessly she wondered how much a desk like that would cost. Easily 2, maybe even 3 thousand dollars.

And now here it was, under a pile of rubble...and blocking her way out.

"GAAHH!" She kicked it hard almost sending herself toppling down the stairs when it didn't budge.

She steadied herself and reevaluated the desk in front and above her. It was on it side, held in place above the stairs by two large steel beams, its drawers facing down.

She pulled at the handle of one of the large bottom drawers. It didn't move.

She pulled her expandable baton off of her belt and whipped it open. The sound echoed in her little cavern.

Wedging the baton in the handle she used all of her weight as leverage. Suddenly, and without warning the drawer opened sending white and yellow documents flying and Abbey tumbling back down the stairs.

She shook herself off and clamored back up to the desk, a dim light shown through where the drawer had been. There had been no wooden bottom beneath the drawer and there was now a clear hole through the pile of detritus. Pulling herself back up and putting her head into the space where the drawer had once been she sighed in dismay; even her slim frame would not be able to fit through the space created.

She grimaced as she reached as far as she could, searching for anything that might help her widen the hole. Peering through she could barely see, there was more debris and a hot, thick, dusty haze.

She coughed and pulled her jacket over her mouth.

Straining her ears she thought she could hear people in the distance through the haze. "Mickey!" She shouted even as her voice was lost in a cough.

She padded her breast pocket for her shiny, unused, patrol whistle. She ducked her head back into her confined area and took as deep a breath as she could then stuck her head as far through the drawer hole as possible and blew sharply on her whistle.

Three short, three long, three short.

S - O - S

S - O - S

S - O - S

S - O - S

S - O - S

S - O - S

S - ...

Suddenly a flashlight beam cut through the dust, making wide sweeps until it paused on her, blinding her eyes, "I see you!" Came a muffled voice.

"Thank god." She muttered letting the whistle fall from her lips.

A pair of dust covered patrol boots took up her field of vision before their owner sunk to his knees and bent over to peer in at her.

She had to bite back a laugh. Her would be rescuer had what was once a white button up shirt wrapped around his head and a pair of aviator sunglasses bent to be as tight as possible with his makeshift face mask.

"Are you hurt?" The stranger asked.

She shook her head, "No. Just stuck. This was the rear stairwell to the PATH platform."

"Anyone else in there with you?" He was brushing the small rubble away from the hole, his flashlight bouncing around behind her.

"No." She shook her head again. "My partner had been here but he went to find better radio reception before this happened. Michael McIntyre."

"Partner?" He paused, his flash light beam now focused on her again, "NYPD?"

She nodded, unsure if he could even see her, "Patrol Officer Abigail Baker. 9th precinct."

The stranger nodded, "Okay Patrol Officer Baker, we're going to get you out of there forthwith."

"Mister," She halted him, "If you have access to an axe or something I can make this opening wide enough from this side to crawl out of. It's just two pieces of wood getting in the way."

"Copy that." He shot back standing back up, "Stand by."

As his footsteps faded away she sank down on to the stairs and put her head in her hands. She still wasn't entirely sure what had happened but the little she _could_ see had looked apocalyptic. "Mickey...god, please be okay..." she muttered into her hands as she rubbed her brow.

"Baker!" The muffled voice was back.

She scrambled back to her feet and stuck her head back up through the hole she had created. This time the stranger was accompanied by another pair of boots.

He dropped to the ground again to look through the hole. He slid the handle end of an axe into her space. "Here."

She grasped it gratefully and pulled it to her, balancing the weight in her hands.

"Only do the least you need to to squeeze through," The muffled voice was instructing. "We're not entirely sure how well everything on top of it will hold and you don't want to bring it all down on all of us.

She winced, "No sir."

"How small is it?" A new voice, belonging to the second pair of boots asked.

"Pretty small," Replied the muffled voice, pulling away from the hole and giving his attention to the new comer, "But she looks to be about Erin's size. She won't need much."

"Frank," shot back the other voice, "Neither you or I are engineers and this thing doesn't look stable. Maybe we should wait."

"Wait for what?" Shot back Frank in what Abbey was certain would be a much sharper tone if not for being muffled by the shirt. "For the fire department? For ESU? I think everyone's a little busy at the moment, John."

John sighed, "I know that. You know I know that. All I'm saying is that we don't want to make anything worse."

Frank's pushed off of his knees and his boots stood toe to toe with the other pair, "Worse, John? Look around; I can't imagine worse at the moment, can you?"

For a moment Abbey couldn't hear what was being said and the view of their boots was giving nothing away.

"There is an NYPD officer down there. You want to walk away?" Frank's voice came back scathingly.

"Go to hell, Frank, you know that's not what I was saying." John snarled.

A heavy sigh. "I know. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." The second pair of boots shuffled, "I have a feeling that is only one of many short moments we'll be having with one another in the coming hours." John replied.

"If we're lucky." Mumbled Frank in agreement.

Some shuffling and then a new face appeared in front of Abbey. John's face was not wrapped like Frank's and dirt clung so heavy that it took a moment for her to register he was smiling a broad toothy grin. She blinked, it seemed out of place and incongruous with what was happening in the moment but she found herself returning the smile.

"Officer Baker?" He inquired.

"Yes sir." She replied automatically, not knowing anything more than his age to judge that regardless of rank he was definitely her superior.

"Inspector John McKenna, Brooklyn South. Look, there's a whole heap of trouble on top of you here so we have to do this careful, okay?"

She nodded, "Yes sir."

"Hand me your duty belt and anything else that might make you bulkier than your slimmest self." He held out a hand.

If not for the situation she might have rolled her eyes but she realized what he was aiming for right away and carefully passed him her belt, radio, and overcoat.

"Okay, so you knock down the least amount of wood you need to get out of there and then stick your arms through. We can't risk having you pushing against it for leverage so we'll just pull you out. Okay?"

"Okay." She nodded and eyed the wooden crossbeam of the desk.

She took one small test swing. Feeling how it landed she struck again with more force. Once more and the beam broke. she slid the axe back through and used her hands to rip off the splintered pieces.

"Okay, I'm ready." She ducked into the wider hole now created and stuck her arms all the way through.

Two pairs of warm, rough hands grabbed her arms.

"Okay, on the count of three..." The muffled voice of Frank commanded, "One...two...three!"

With a few grunts she was pulled free of the space and both Frank and Inspector McKenna fell to the ground.

She pushed herself to her knees and looked around, confused. She was supposed to be in the lobby of WTC 1...but there was nothing but a debris field.

Behind her was where she had just come out of; it looked like a pinprick hole in the side of a mountain of steel. Had she not whistled she couldn't imagine anyone ever finding her. Looking around she couldn't find the walls or the ceiling...but she couldn't see the sun either, it was just a hazy fog and she coughed.

"Here you go, " Frank was standing next to her and extending a hand to help her to her feet as Inspector McKenna handed back her belt and jacket.

"Thank you." She as she refastened her equipment she took the opportunity to look over her rescuers.

Inspector McKenna was wearing duty boots and an NYPD cap but that was the only thing about him that indicated he was on the job. He was wearing a pair of khaki corduroy pants and a short sleeved plaid shirt.

Towering next to him, Frank was at least was wearing blue duty pants but the slack style, without the cargo pockets. And no duty belt. He had three radios clipped onto a standard black dress belt. What she assumed used to be his white button up shirt was wrapped firmly around his mouth and nose leaving him in an undershirt that was stained with a variety of fresh dirt, grease and mud.

She couldn't help but smile.

The two men looked at her and then at one another. Inspector McKenna's lip tipped up and he let out a full on belly laugh.

"You...you..." John struggled to breathe, "You look like one of those creatures from Star Wars!"

"Me?!" Frank gestured, grinning in return, "You look like you rolled around in a mud pit on your way to a casual day at the ball park!" He turned to her, "Of the three of us, Baker here is the only one who actually looks ready for service!"

She looked down at her dirty blue jacket and shrugged. "I was always supposed to be patrolling this area this morning, I suspect the both of you expected to be somewhere else."

Both of the men sobered at her observation.

"Yeah..."  
"That's for sure..."

They agreed, sharing a moment of realization before Frank straightened. "Alright, C'mon this way out, Officer Baker. "

She held back, "Sir, I'd rather stay here."

The two senior officers looked at one another and then back at her. She could read the confusion despite Frank's masked face.

"My partner, he was actually my TO, he should be somewhere near by. He was just here when things started happening. I need to find him." She gestured to the mess around her.

She watched Frank's chest rise and fall with a deep breath as he hesitated a moment before stepping closer to her. Bending his neck, he pulled back the wrap on his face and removed his sun glasses revealing thick brows and sensitive eyes. "Baker," He stopped, eyes darting down as he pursed his lips under a thick mustache.

He locked eyes, "All I'm going to say is that you were incredibly lucky. Being in that alcove, in that stairwell, saved your life. A 110 story building collapsed on your head and yet you're still here. Had you been most any other place..."

His voice drifted off and he looked at her, his own lip trembled and his eyes, blood shot and red rimmed silently and earnestly pleaded with her to not make him spell it out further.

She looked away, breath knocked from her body. She could see the silhouettes of others through the haze, gingerly making their way through the rubble. As if her ears opened she heard the pop of fires burning and the creaking of wreckage settling...and the sounds of men sobbing.

Looking over Frank's shoulder she saw two members of FDNY in full turnout gear, holding each other up as they openly cried into one another's arms.

Shaking, she focused on steadying her breathing and willing the tears from her eyes. Even as she felt one slide down her face Frank made no comment.

She straightened, "I'd still like to help, sir."

He smiled and nodded, "Of course you do. You're a cop."

McKenna chuckled behind him but Frank paid him no heed. "I promise you, we will all have lots to do to help but first rule of survival, inventory your assets. You need to report in with your precinct so they know they have you. They'll turn you out to work."

She nodded stiffly, "Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir."

"Good." Frank nodded, coughing once before rewrapping his shirt around his mouth and nose. "I'm not sure what the 9th will end up tasked with but if it's not SR of this tower, and that's what you want, you just ask your CO to get a hold of me."

She hot footed to keep up as he turned to walk out, "Umm thank you Sir but I'm sorry, I don't know who you are."

He stopped and turned, face mask shifting enough so she could tell he was smiling. "My oversight. Deputy Chief Frank Reagan, Brooklyn South."


	4. Progress

The next few days were long for Abbey and the rest of the NYPD. She was not assigned to the search and rescue but did not bother dropping the deputy chief's name, the more she thought about it the less faith she had in her own ability to handle what the SR teams were sure to find.

Instead, her and her precinct secured the perimeter. For 12 hours they would set barriers and brush away journalists and inspect incoming equipment.

When her shift was over she would return to the precinct, catch a bunk for 4 hours, then return to the pile to offer off duty support moving supplies or providing relief before heading back to the precinct for a quick refresher nap, shower and get ready to do it all again.

For the first two days it seemed everywhere she looked, there was Deputy Chief Reagan. On the first day, after she was turned out by her CO she saw him overseeing the set up of the temporary HQ on Liberty.

He had replaced his head wrap for a standard dust mask and had pulled an NYPD fleece over his undershirt but he still wore the same slacks she had seen him in that morning. She hadn't thought he'd take notice of her but he gave her a small nod of recognition as she set the street barricade across the intersection.

She smiled back and continued on.

That night, she helped distribute new dust masks to the command posts and bucket lines. In a dark spot where the debris field from the two towers met she caught site of him climbing off the pile, one arm wrapped around the waist of an exhausted, nearly collapsed member of FDNY.

During the next day's shift she was pushing back some photojournalists from the makeshift driveway entrance when there again was the familiar DC. This time she watched as he climbed onto the side of a dump truck and held on as he instructed the driver where to go.

That night, after a nap and shower she headed out again, this time moving donated blankets and supplies to St. Paul's where a number of cops had taken up refuge. Not being religious herself she approached the Chaplain hesitantly but Father Markham smiled warmly at her and suggested she place a blanket at the edge of each pew.

She happily set about the task, doing her best to give warm smiles to the officers she saw, knowing they were far from their own precincts and familiar comforts.

When she got to the last pew she came up short.

Yet again, there was DC Reagan. This time though, the mountain of a man who had pulled her from a hole in the earth and hadn't seemed to stop moving since, was curled on his side, passed out. His arms were flecked with scratches and his hair was caked with dirt. The fleece she had seen him in was pillowed under his head and he wore the same filthy undershirt from when she first met him 2 days and a lifetime ago.

He twitched, and shivered in his sleep and without thought she pulled a wool blanket from the stack and carefully draped it over him. Unconsciously he grabbed at the edge and pulled it to his chin, murmuring something contentedly.

She smiled softly but not wanting to draw attention she refused to indulge any further curiosity and stepped back...right into Father Markham.

"He alright?" The priest asked.

Abbey blinked, "Um, he looked cold."

"Good thing you brought the blankets then." He smiled softly at her.

She nodded stiffly.

"Everything alright with you?" He asked, a gentle hand on her shoulder.

She nodded again. "Long few days..." She murmured.

Markham smiled, "You won't find anyone here who disagrees with you."

She found herself looking back at the sleeping man.

"Especially not him." The chaplain smiled, guiding her over and down to sit with him in across the aisle.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. It's just..." She sighed, and looked back over, "I was stuck. Tuesday morning, I was stuck when Tower 1 came down and Deputy Chief Reagan pulled me out. Since then I've been back to my precinct a few times to sleep and shower and eat but each time I turn around...it just seems like he's everywhere."

"That would be Frank." Markham smiled fondly, "He puts a lot of pressure on himself, especially when officers are putting themselves on the line. He'll work himself to his limit if he feels it's warranted. I didn't even see him come in tonight. He must have just come in and lay down."

"I hope he got something to eat." She reflexively wondered aloud.

"Ha!" Markham laughed gently, "If I know the Reagan family the one thing they know how to do better than police work is eat! Don't you worry, I'm sure he has been grazing all day."

Abbey nodded, and looked down, uncertain as to why she felt so off centered.

Markham tilted his head to try and meet her gaze, "If you're really concerned don't be. When I noticed he was here I called his wife; she's sending one of their sons in with a vat of beef stew for everyone. Maybe you'd like to stick around?"

She blinked back tears that suddenly came to her face.

Father Markham sat patiently, saying nothing, just waiting for her.

She swallowed hard and looked to him, "I lost my partner yesterday."

His face colored with understanding and he put his hands over both of hers. "I'm sorry to hear that."

She nodded and wiped angrily at her face.

"A loss like that, a time like this, can leave you feeling lost and alone." Markham handed her a handkerchief, "It's a scary time right now and maybe it's made worse because you feel you're on your own now?"

She sniffed and nodded.

The chaplain breathed slowly, deliberately, "I may not wear the uniform but I've been working with the NYPD long enough to know that as a member of this force you will _**never**_ be on your own."

He glanced over to the sleeping Chief, sleeping soundly under the blanket before looking back to the young woman in front of him, "I suspect you already know that?"

"He pulled me out." She answered meekly. "He wouldn't let them leave me..." She looked back to the priest, "Then he just went back to work. For days. I wish I had that strength."

Father Markham nodded gently, "We all have our roles to play." He smiled at her, "From what you tell me it seems that you have been doing exactly what it is you admire from someone else. Sounds like you've been out there non stop as well; not to mention that you went back to work after being out there and loosing your partner. That kind of strength is not easily dismissed."

She looked down and said nothing.

"Do you want to stay and wait for the soup?" Markham gestured to the side of the room, "We have coffee running and Jimmy just ran out to track down some bread and butter."

She smiled, breathing through her nose and clearing away the remainder of her tears. "No, thank you, Father. I have to get back. My next tour starts in just a few hours."

He nodded, "Well, the doors will always be open, if you need, or even just want, anything, please come find me. Beyond the blue brotherhood, by the grace of God you are never alone."

"Thank you Father." She gave his hand another squeeze before standing, "I'll be fine."

* * *

And she _was_ fine.

She kept herself focused on her work carrying out the on going duties that came with keeping the world's largest crime scene secure.

Again, through out the day on Thursday and into the night, she continued to notice the ever present, mustached Deputy Chief. Performing a roll call, calling out instructions for equipment distribution, and carrying cases of water down to the crews.

They never actually crossed paths but she kept her eyes open, his constant appearances providing a mix of comfort and entertainment.

On Friday she was assigned with the rest of the security crew to help the brass facilitate the Secret Services requirement's for the President's visit. She tagged teamed with her assigned treasury agent moving and changing entrance and exit egresses all through the morning.

After Bush had come and gone and the press was cleared from the Pile her crew broke for meal. Instead of heading to the grub table Abbey took a moment to just sit back and take a breather.

It had been a crazy morning, but fun. The Secret Service were incredibly organized and she truly appreciated the level of detail in their contingency charts especially for something thrown together so fast. She closed her eyes trying to remember every detail she'd been able to soak in before the binder had been returned to the supervising agent.

"Sleeping on the job, Baker?"

She jumped at the voice, "Chief, sir!"

"Relax..." He smiled, "Saw you sitting here, brought you a sandwich."

"Sir..." She blanked.

He shrugged and settled on the concrete next to her with a sandwich of his own, "It's turkey. Nothing fancy, but not bad for grab and go."

"Thank you sir..." She accepted the deli package gratefully.

"You did good work today Baker." He commented, eyes focused over the pile and the men working the bucket line.

She shrugged, "I just did what I was told to do."

"Yes, you did." He nodded, "But that agent you were partnered with, he was a real pain. And trust me, so was his boss. You dealt with their crap like a real pro."

She blinked, honestly not expecting the praise, "I didn't think there was any other way to handle it than how I did...Sir."

He smiled but said nothing.

For a while they ate side by side in silence until Frank spoke again, "Father Markham told me you stopped by the other morning."

She just nodded, keeping her focus on the sandwich, unsure if she was happy or mortified that the Father had thought to mention her.

"Holding up okay?" His voice was quiet and he looked at her without a trace of judgement.

She breathed in deeply through her nose and gave a shallow nod. "I think so." She looked down to her hands, "As long as I keep working."

He released a soft, sad chuckle, "There's a familiar story."

He looked away, eyes on the pile. The ever present haze from the past several days was almost completely clear and in places the masts and stacks of ships in the hudson could be seen.

"Don't feel like you need to keep it up. Men with a lot more time than you have cracked this week." He swallowed, and looked down, lips tightening. "We've all lost a lot, but you've lost a partner and mentor. That's not to be minimized."

Abbey put down her sandwich and rubbed her palms on her thighs. She took a deep breath, nodding.

"Sometimes I fear..." He shifted, "That when there is so much loss it's sometimes too hard feel each one as personally as they deserve." He breathed out, "It's important...to honor them...by not giving in to that numbness." He looked at her piercingly, "And that, well that takes guts."

She stared back, blinking, "Thank you, Deputy Chief."

He smiled and nodded, "Anytime Abigail."


	5. Changes

~~September 2004~~

"Detective? You can go in."

Abbey nodded her appreciation to the young man at the desk as she stepped past and in to the Chief of Department's office.

"Detective." Frank Reagan greeted her, standing next to his desk.

"Chief." She returned in kind with a small smile.

They shook hands before he gestured to her leg, "How's the knee?"

"Still stiff, but no more cane. Moving forward." She made a show of a small dip.

"Good, Good." He gestured for her to sit as he took his own chair, "And I've heard you're supposed to make a full recovery?"

She nodded, moving his jacket off of the only chair in the small office so she could have space to sit down, "That's still to be seen, but it looks good.."

He leaned forward, hands clasped together, "So then can you tell me what this is about?"

"Sir?" She tilted her head.

He sighed, holding up an official looking form, "This here is a recommendation from your CO for you to receive the NYPD Medal of Valor for your actions that day." He glanced at her, "I was going to sign it and bring it to the commissioner but before I could, your CO also sent me this," He put down the form and picked up an envelope, "Which I'm told contains one letter of resignation from Detective Third Grade, Abigail Baker."

Abbey felt her blush creeping up the back of her neck. "Yes, sir."

He leaned back, "So, I ask again, given that you're likely on your way to a full recovery, why am I holding a resignation?"

She released a long sigh but said nothing, eyes focused on the desk.

"Detective..." The Chief pushed.

He waited a beat and sighed when she still did not answer, "Baker..."

She closed her eyes and swallowed, "I can't do it again."

He leaned back, "Do what?"

"Sir..." She straightened up, "I've had 3 partners in 4 and a half years. Two of them have been killed."

He sighed, "Neither of those were your fault."

" _That doesn't matter._ " She muttered, before her blue eyes went wide and she stiffened, clamping her mouth shut.

Frank's eyebrows rose and he leaned back, silent and waiting.

She sighed, "I'm sorry."

He shook his head, "Don't be."

"I just meant," She looked up at him, "It doesn't matter whose or what's at fault. I can't go through that again."

"Loosing a partner." Frank confirmed evenly.

Abbey looked down, "Yes."

He breathed out steadily, hands braced on his knees, "That's not something to be ashamed of."

She shook her head, "I'm not ashamed."

She looked away. "Sir, I've been on the job for less than 5 years. In that time I've lived through loosing my partner in the towers and the aftermath of that day. My first CO ended up being dirty and another officer in my precinct was targeted and almost killed by a former collar. In my third case as a detective the suspect is still at large after he managed to escape when he shot both my partner and myself. I had to sit there and watch my partner die, unable to do anything to help him."

She looked up at him, "I understand that may not seem like much up against all you've probably gone through, but in my book it's all too much to take in 5 years. Maybe it could get better but knowing this city, and this job you and I both know that is unlikely and I just...can't" She looked away, defeat bowing her shoulders.

Frank took in a long slow breath through his nose and then released it again. He rolled his shoulders back.

"So you want to quit." He leveled at her. "You don't want to be a cop, a detective anymore? Not a member of this department."

She met his eyes before blinking and looking away, "Chief, you have to know that resigning from this department is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do."

"Then don't." He fired back.

She shook her head, "Sir, I appreciate this. But where as resigning is hard, nothing would be harder than watching another partner get hurt."

Frank leaned back, lips pressed firmly together. "Baker, I am going to be straight forward here. You've had a hell of a raw deal and you're right, a rough first few years." He braced his hands on the desk, "But from where I sit, you're the type of officer that this department can't afford to loose."

"Thank you sir." she swallowed, "But that doesn't change my circumstance."

His eyes narrowed and fingers fidgeted with the paper on the desk, "What if we could? Change your circumstance?"

"With all due respect sir," She grimaced, "I don't have any interest in being a desk Sergeant."

His eyebrows bounced, "What _do_ you have interest in?"

She shrugged.

He picked up a folder, reviewing it, "You have a BS in Criminal Justice Management from John Jay as well as a minor in Poli Sci?"

Abbey blinked, "Um, yes?"

"I also see you are fluent in Japanese, Spanish and French?" His eyes widened and looked to her for confirmation.

"Well..." She stammered, "Japanese, yes. Spanish and French is just conversational. 10th grade level. Not exactly fluent."

"Hrmmph." He continued to stare thoughtfully at the folder. "Top 10% at the academy, top marks on the detective exam and you've been using your rehabilitation time to take CE classes." He looked up at her with a smirk, "I guess I wouldn't be the first one to talk to you about potential."

She released a short breath, refraining from rolling her eyes.

He put the folder down, "Let's try this; Why did you become a cop?"

"It's nothing deep." She dismissed.

Frank didn't say anything, just waited.

"Well," She sighed, "I just...When I was a kid every big event there were always cops. The Thanksgiving parade, football games, Fourth of July. In my eyes the police were the ones who made every special event possible. And when something bad happened the cops were the ones to solve the crime and make the city feel safe again. I just wanted to be a part of that, paying it forward I guess."

Frank nodded slowly, "I think we can accommodate that, if you're interested."

"Sir?" Her head tilted.

"I have a job in mind." He leaned his elbows on the desk. "It would make use of some of your more unique aptitudes, allow you to continue to contribute to the good the NYPD does for this city and it wouldn't be boring, but safe enough that I can personally vouch for the safety of your partner. In fact, you wouldn't even need to carry a gun if you prefer not to."

She furrowed her brow, "Sir, with all due respect, who on this force would ever be okay with an unarmed partner?"

Frank rested against the back of his chair, a pleased smile lifting his mustache. "Me."

Abbey blinked as her chief tilted his head in obvious amusement as she tried to work out what he was telling her.

"Sir, you're the CoD." She stammered.

"I am." He nodded in agreement.

"You don't have a partner." She pointed out.

"Doesn't mean I don't need one." He remarked dryly.

She shook her head, "I'm sorry. I don't understand."

He grinned, "Well. I'm still the Chief of Department and you're still a Detective with less then five years on the job so it's not a partnership in the traditional sense... but I need someone who I can count on to have my back."

"Sir, I'm sorry, I'm still..."

He sighed, "You ever hear 'It's lonely at the top'?"

She nodded slowly.

"I've got an administrative assistant and a hall full of Assistant and Deputy Chiefs," His hand gestured vaguely to the door, "But, the chiefs all have agendas and the the assistant never served a day in uniform and doesn't understand the complexities to half of what comes through here. I'm left here with an overflowing inbox and no rhyme or reason to the prioritization of items that land on my desk. Who ever is shouting the loudest ends up on the top of the pile and I end up wasting my time with traffic when I should be focusing on OCCB...or whatever."

He rubbed at his forehead, "The guy is a nice young man, organized, smart, great typing skills. But he works 9-5 regardless of the circumstance and when it comes to the crazy days the only person I have to talk things out with are the commissioner, and frankly I'd rather hash things out with a wall."

Abbey's eyebrows rose and she swallowed a surprised chuckle.

He flashed a quick return grin, leaning back, "This office is responsible for synthesizing all department activity for the commissioner, coordinating task forces and farming out assignments and following up. I don't have time to go over the contingency plans for each parade and hollywood film shoot or oversee every CI request, but I don't have anyone whom I can trust to pass it off to and to know what I need to know and what just needs to get accomplished."

Abbey began to nod slowly, "So, that's something you'd like me to do?"

He shrugged.

"If you want it." He paused, gauging her for a quiet beat. "You'll be the only person in the office to have full access to everything. Full clearance and open door access. You'll be the one to keep perspective; knowing what meetings can be cut in the light of a situation and what parts of the schedule need to go on regardless of what else is happening."

"Okay..." She murmured, eyes darting across the stacks of folders on his desk.

He pulled off his glasses, "There's a lot going on in this building, not much which I agree with at the moment. This office here, as long as I'm at this desk, is going to be dedicated to fighting on behalf of the guys on the street, and I need someone in this building who has been there, appreciates that mission and whom I can trust. Be my gate keeper, run interference, perhaps some..." He grimaced, looking around the room, "Side jobs that require more discretion than doing them myself." He looked back at her, "If you understand what I'm saying?"

She straightened her shoulders, "I think I do."

He leaned back, smiling, "It doesn't need to be all grim and dire, sometimes I know I need to be reminded of the world outside this building, some grounding to reality be it a boot to the keister to get home or simply someone to share a joke with after a long day. "

Her eyebrows rose, "In that case, I feel it's important to inform you that I'm not exactly known for my humor. I believe 'Ice Queen' was the term at the academy."

He lips pursed into a wry grin, "Good. I prefer a dry wit."

She gave a short laugh and smiled.

"So," He leaned forward again, "What do you say? Would you like to be Senior Administrative Assistant to the Chief of Department?"

Abbey took a heavy sigh, blinking fast. "Sir. I'm flattered. And honestly a little overwhelmed."

He shrugged, "Well, you don't need to be. Many days will be routine and filled with basic office work. But I think it's work you'll like."

She nodded, "I think it is too sir."

"So that's a yes?" Hie eyebrows rose.

She nodded slowly, eyes tracking over him, pausing, "I don't need to dress in Blues everyday?" She gestured to his own daily dress uniform.

He shook his head, "You can even wear heels." He smirked.

"Well, in that case..." She bit down on the wide smile fighting to cross her lips, "May I please have my letter of resignation back, sir?"

"Gladly." His face broadened in smile as handed it across the desk, "And I don't want to see it again."

"Noted, sir." She nodded as she tucked it into the pocket of her blazer.

She stood to go, glancing about the office when her gaze caught on the mementos around his computer monitor. There, between pictures of his family was a picture of the World Trade Center from after the North tower had been hit but before the second plane.

It was taken from a distance with the Statue of Liberty in the foreground and the black smoke staining the perfect blue sky.

She swallowed hard.

"Sir?" She turned to face him, "One more question if I might?"

She heard him take in a deep breath as he followed her gaze. "Yes?" His voice was quiet.

"Why me?" She turned, piercing him with her hard blue eyes. "From literally the first moment we met you've done nothing but look out for me and you don't really even know me."

His mustache twitched in a short grin of acknowledgement, his face remained sober, "Baker, when I first met you, you were an NYPD officer stuck under a mound of debris. I pulled you out because that was my job."

"Oh." She looked down and nodded, "Of course, Sir."

Frank continued before she could excuse herself, "But do you remember what you said immediately after we got you free?"

She shook her head, "I remember laughing at your and Chief McKenna's appearances."

At that he grinned, letting a short chuckle escape. "Yes, that did happen." He looked at her "But after that, you stopped me and said ' _I'd rather be here._ '"

She paused, remembering the terrifying moment when he was telling her they were leaving despite still not knowing where Mickey was.

"I remember that." She replied softly.

"Well," Frank stood up and moved around the desk, "You had just had a sky scraper collapse on top of you. You had been trapped and I'm sure had a moment of panic, but you kept your head, got my attention and saved yourself only to step in to a hellscape. The air was poison and the ground was on fire. 8 million rational people were fleeing in the opposite direction but when you were offered a way out you said you'd rather stay to find your partner."

He stood close enough that he had to bend his neck to make eye contact, "I don't need to know anything else about you to know that you're the kind of cop I want to serve with."

She blinked quickly, and swallowed. "Thank you, sir."

He shrugged and stepped back around the desk.

"Well..." She looked around the room "If it's worth anything, seeing you that week, always present, gave me, and I know a lot of others, some of the encouragement to keep going. You were there for us all and I never got to thank you for that."

Frank looked down to his desk for a long beat before meeting Abbey's eyes with a tight smile, "See you Monday? 8am?"

She returned the smile, "Yes, sir."


	6. Augury

~~~June 2005~~~

"No."

Assistant Chief Vincenzo crossed his arms, "Look, he's going to want to see this."

Abbey just stared back at him passively.

Vincenzo grimaced, "Baker..."

She gave him a small shrug, "Sir, I am sure the Chief will want to see the report, _eventually_. But that doesn't mean I'm going to let you in there _now._ "

"You can't know that!" He grumbled, "I'm going in there."

She shook her head, unfazed, "No, _you're not._ " She smiled sweetly at the fuming officer, "If you'd like to give _me_ the report I can make sure he reviews it when he's available."

The older man huffed and looked away, shaking his head, "Will that be today?"

She nodded, "Most likely."

With a roll of his eyes he begrudgingly handed over the blue folder.

"No promises..." She muttered under her breath causing the Assistant Chief to pause and narrow his eyes.

An innocent bat of her eyes and he stormed off.

"Wow..." Andrew, the office's assistant muttered. "That was bad ass, Baker."

She shrugged flipping open the blue folder and pulling up her notepad, "He gets what he deserves."

She glanced over the numbers and quickly jotted down some relevant bullet points in case the Chief asked for a summary.

She glanced over the daily schedule considering if bringing this to his attention was more or less important than the review of the United Nations summit that the Commissioner had requested for that afternoon.

The direct line on her desk rang, "Chief of Department's office, this is Detective Baker."

"Hi Abigail." came a warm voice over the line, immediately bringing a smile to Abbey's face.

"Mrs. Reagan. Hello."

"How many times have I asked you to call me Mary?"

"I'm sorry Ma'am. Just never seems to come out."

"It's alright, of course. Look, is Frank in?"

Abbey nodded despite Mary being unable to see her, "Yes. Would you like me to put you through? He's in a meeting with the DCPI; I'm sure he would appreciate an interruption."

Mary's warm laugh was short, "I have no doubt, but no, that's okay. I'm just wondering, is there anything you can clear off his schedule for the afternoon? I'd like to pull him early."

Abbey glanced at the blue folder from Vincenzo and smirked, "There absolutely are a few things I can take off. How early do you want him?"

There was a stuttered sigh on the other end of the line, "To be honest? As soon as possible. But it can wait if there's anything truly pressing."

Abbey frowned. The Chief's wife was no stranger to checking on her husband's schedule but never before had she requested clearing a whole afternoon.

Abbey glanced over her schedule for the day with a critical eye. "Okay, he's scheduled to go up to the Commissioner's with the DCPI after this meeting here ends. I imagine that will be less than 45 minutes. I can probably clear everything after that if I can send him home with a few briefs."

Mary released an audible sigh of relief. "Thank you Abigail."

"Ma'am." She continued evenly, "He's going to want to know why."

For a moment there was just breathing on the other side of the line. "Don't say anything to him. I'll just come over. 45 minutes?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"I'll see you then Detective."

Abbey hung up the phone; staring at it uncertainly, with encroaching discomfort.

Her contemplation of the mysterious request was interrupted by the Chief himself as he exited the office, buttoning up his dress jacket and followed by the mousey DCPI. "I'm headed to 14, Baker." He hollered without stopping.

"Copy that..." She muttered looking back at the remaining afternoon schedule, mentally calculating what to do with the busy afternoon.

A short time later a middle aged women with a slender face, dark auburn hair and gentle smile appeared at the door of the office suite. "Knock, knock."

"Good afternoon, Ma'am." Abbie greeted. "The chief is still upstairs but should be back at any moment."

"I figured I might be early." She smiled knowingly, "A 45 minute meeting with Connors always seems to turn in to an hour."

Abbey nodded in agreement, "I thought I accounted for that, it was only supposed to be half an hour."

"Of course." Mary rolled her eyes.

"Would you like to wait in the office?" Abbey asked, standing to open the door.

Mary eyed the door warily, "I suppose. He doesn't know I'm coming though, right? I don't want it to feel like I'm ambushing him."

"No he doesn't know," Abbey lead the way into the room and waived Mary in, "But we can leave the door and blinds open."

Mary grimaced and followed her in, eyes scanning the office, giving a roll and small smile when they landed on the familiar trench coat dumped yet again on the visitor chair.

"Francis..." she muttered to herself, stroking the jacket before picking it up and hanging it on the hook.

She smiled at Abbey, "The man can talk to his children and his men about responsibility and accountability for days, but try to get him to hang up his own clothes?" She shook her head, amused. "I bought this for him so he could look more professional than that damn pea-coat he likes to wear everywhere; it's hardly effective if he just dumps it, leaving it to become more wrinkled than yesterday's newspaper."

She smoothed out the sleeves and leaned toward Baker with a conspirator's smirk, "Between you and me, I think he's attracted to the cliché of the detective in the rumpled trench."

At that moment Frank strode in to the room, pausing and pursing his lips. "I can't imagine it's ever a good thing to walk in on you two whispering."

"Not unless you have something to hide..." Mary taunted while Abbey ducked her head to conceal her grin.

He tilted his head in acquiescence and deftly side-stepped Baker to place a quick kiss on his wife's cheek, "Well, regardless of the conspiracy, this is a lovely surprise." He grinned and turned his attention to Abbey, "Baker, do I have time?"

Suddenly uncomfortable Abbey glanced at Mary and nodded, "Yes sir, plenty."

Mary mouthed a quick "Thank you." If Frank noticed, he didn't mention it.

"Peachy!" He smiled, sticking his hands in his pockets and returning his attention to his wife, "We going to lunch?"

She smiled gently and stroked his arm, "In a minute. Detective?"

Abbey nodded, "Of course." She saw the Chief's eyes wrinkle in concern as she stepped out of the office, shutting the door behind her. Uneasily she watched as Mary also closed the blinds to the hallway windows.

Sitting at her desk she couldn't help the sensation of a growing pit deep in her stomach as the minutes ticked by.

She busied herself with the oversight report she was compiling and almost didn't register it when her boss called to her from the other side of the closed doors.

"Baker." His voice was distant, he hadn't used the intercom; the stone in her gut sunk even deeper.

When she reentered the office the Chief and his wife both sat on the small couch next to the door. Mary sat back, the clear vestiges of tears in her eyes and her hand covered her mouth as she eyed her husband carefully.

In the 10 months since she started working for him, Baker had learned her boss was not as steady as he projected to the rank and file. She had seen his emotions and reactions run the gambit from infuriated, to amusement, to deep, heart felt empathy and sadness. While he had poker like control over his body language his eyes were ever honest. When an officer was shot in the line of duty 6 months previous she could have sworn she even saw tears building as he spoke with the doctor.

Despite knowing that, she was unprepared for his current disposition.

He sat forward on the edge of the seat, elbows on his knees and hands clasped. His shoulders were rounded, stooped. His whole frame seemed to sag. His mustache rolled as his lips alternated between pursing together and flattening into a tight line. He swallowed deeply and blinked frequently and when he looked at her she didn't have any doubt as to the tears in his eyes.

"Sir...?" She stammered.

He pushed up a watery half smile, before a stuttered sigh and rubbed at his forehead.

"I...uh...Baker...I'm going to need..."

He looked down again, biting the inside of his lip and looking to his wife.

Mary smiled sadly back and placed a gentle hand on his forearm.

He reached over with his other hand grabbing hers and squeezing. He looked back up at Baker, released a long breath and pulling in another.

"I'm going to need you to run some coverage for me over the next little while." He breathed again.

"Of course sir, what ever you need..." She felt her brow wrinkle as she tried to make sense of the situation.

He swallowed and averted his eyes from his wife, locking in with Abbey.

"Mary's sick." He explained tightly, "We don't have a whole lot of detail quite yet but...It's safe to say I'll be dipping into my earn time bank a bit over the coming weeks. I'll try to plan it best I can but with these things..." He paused, lips quivering, "You never know."

He looked to the ceiling, blinking rapidly.

"I'm so sorry." Abbey's eyes between the couple, "For you both."

"Life's challenges." Mary offered sagely, unable to fully disguise the quake in her voice.

Frank bowed his head, bringing Mary's hand up to give it a quick kiss.

He looked to Abbey again, "I'm taking the rest of the day. If you could call Joe's precinct and ask his CO to relieve him of his tour early tonight?"

Baker blinked at the unusual request but nodded in acquiescence, "Of course."

"Okay." He nodded, seemingly more to himself than to her. "I'm just going to grab some things and then we'll be out."

"Of course." Abbey nodded, "Again, I am so sorry."

She turned and left the office, surprised when she felt Mary's hand on her back as the older woman followed her through the door, closing it behind her.

"He needs a minute." Mary whispered by way of explanation.

"Of course." She nodded.

Mary glanced over the various briefing books and calendars on Abbey's desk. "I really am sorry about what extra work this will make for you."

Abbey rolled her eyes, "Ma'am, please, don't give that another thought. Of course anything I can do will be no problem at all."

Mary smiled, and took in a deep breath through her nose, "I am so glad he has you. Since you came on it's made a real difference. I know you'll take care of him."

Abbey swallowed, "Ma'am..."

"Shush." Mary admonished, "Regardless of what happens next this will not be easy on Frank. You weren't around when his mother passed a few years ago; he did not handle it well and I'm sure that's still in his head." She held her breath for a beat, glancing at the closed office door, "There will be days when he'll have an even harder time with all this than me and because of the situation for once he won't come to me." She looked back to Abbey, "I just mean it's comforting to know that on those days there will be someone looking out for him. He will never admit it, but he can't handle everything alone."

Abbey nodded briskly, blinking back her own tears. "Of course."

With a watery smile Mary squeezed Abbey's hands, "And, woman to woman, could you do me a favor and keep him from wrinkling that coat? I'm going to have enough to focus on without worrying about my husband looking like a damn hobo." She smiled, the amusement reaching her eyes.

"Of course, Mary." Abbey smiled back with as much empathy as she could muster, "Absolutely."

"Thank you dear." Mary stepped back just as Frank exited the office.

This time his face was downturned and he made no comment about the low conversation between his wife and assistant.

"Baker." He acknowledged, "You know how to reach me."

"Again, thank you, Abigail" Mary waived before wrapping an arm around her husband's back and walking out the door.

The pit in Abbey's stomach returned and somehow, deep inside, she knew that would be the last time she ever saw Mary Reagan.


	7. Denouement

In the following months, the Chief's attendance at the office became steadily more erratic; he would be in some days, gone others; occasionally disappearing for hours without warning.

When he was at the office he was present and focused; very few at 1PP even knew what the family was dealing with but Abbey was keenly aware as the lines around Frank Reagan's eyes deepened and his frequent smiles and jokes faded.

She did her best to cover, reading and approving plans on his behalf, aggressively delegating assignments to the Bureau Chiefs and deftly manipulating his schedule with the commissioner. It helped that something seemed to be unfolding on the 14th floor and the Commissioner was appearing to lay low. But that just put more on the Chief's desk and by the time he was regularly leaving an hour early, Abbey had set up his Bay Ridge home with a fax machine in an attempt to balance his responsibilities around his desire to be with his wife.

Things weren't easy but they had slowly become adept at the challenges. So much so that it was with unsettled trepidation one quiet Monday in early September that Abbey watched the clock approach 9pm while the Chief remained shut in his office.

She fidgeted in her seat, uncertain of her role but knowing something was amiss.

Steeling herself with a deep breath, she stood and knocked once on the office door. Without waiting for his reply she stepped into the darkened room.

Frank was at his desk; slumped in the chair. His suit jacket was dumped on the small grey couch and his tie was piled on the desk next to a half empty bottle of scotch.

She stood in the door way and he averted his eyes.

Quickly understanding, she clenched her molars, refusing to transmit any facial reaction. "Want to talk?" She offered simply.

He took a sip from his glass.

"No." He shook his head slowly, eyes glassy.

Abbey nodded. "Okay."

He watched her silently as she stepped forward and picked up the bottle. His eyebrows rose but he said nothing when she topped off his drink before capping the bottle and returning it to it's hidden spot in the cabinet. She then pulled a bottle of water from the case they shared by the door and placed it on the desk next to the glass.

She waited until he made questioning eye contact before she offered a gentle smile and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Back at her desk she pulled out a small black notebook from the center drawer of the desk. She flicked it open and flicked at the paper a few moments, considering the list and her next action.

With a sigh she picked up the phone and dialed the 3rd number off the page.

"Lo?" Came Joe Reagan's short reply.

"Hi, Detective? This is Detective Baker from…"

"I know who you are." He cut her off, "I'm sorry if you're looking for my old man; I'm elbow deep on a case, I haven't spoken to him all day."

She winced, "No, I'm sorry. That's not it. He's here."

She heard the background noise on the other side of the line fade, "What's going on?"

She bit at her lip, uncertain as to how to articulate her concern, "Well, he's here and he's okay but… let's just say if a situation arose the Chief would not be fit for duty."

There was a long pause before, "Don't let him leave."

20 minutes later, instead of Joe as she expected, the Chief's eldest arrived, not stopping to ask permission into the office. Abbey let out a slow breath, she hadn't realized Danny was home from the marines yet. If he had been granted early separation it was probably not a good sign for the Reagans.

Within a few moments the stillness was broken by an unintelligible shout from Danny that was immediately countered by Frank.

Abbey clenched her hands on the desk, waiting as the room went quiet again.

A minute later both Reagans emerged from the office, Danny's hand on his father's back.

Frank paused at Abbey's desk and she held her breath as he turned to her on unsteady feet, looking her over with bloodshot eyes, "Thank you, Baker."

"See you tomorrow, Sir." She replied evenly.

"C'mon, Dad. Let's go." Danny gave her a sad smile as he gently ushered his father out the door.

* * *

Neither Baker nor the Chief made any reference to the incident and the next few days he went back to leaving on time, if not early, each day.

Abbey knew things were not going well regarding the Chief's wife and she certainly didn't judge him for his moment of weakness; in fact, she was truly impressed with how well he was keeping himself together.

That was until that Thursday night.

Despite the Chief clocking out Abbey stayed, taking advantage of the quiet to work through some more menial tasks. She was almost through her inbox when the phone rang.

"Chief of Department's office. This is Baker."

"Detective, It's Erin Reagan-Boyle."

Abbey smiled immediately, she didn't know the Chief's only daughter well but she knew enough to respect any woman raised alongside 3 brothers.

"Is my father there?"

Abbey's brows pinched together, "Um, no. He left right before 4 today."

Erin sighed, "Is that normal?"

"Recently…" Abbey glanced at her calendar, "8 out of the past 9 days he's been out before 4:30."

Erin muttered to herself.

Abbey's internal alarm bells began to sound, "What's going on? He usually implies he's going straight home."

"Yeah…" Erin replied quietly, "And he has been most of the summer. But Sunday we put Mom in hospice."

"Oh." Abbey blinked in surprise, "I'm so sorry." She didn't add her immediate thought that the Chief's actions on Monday suddenly made sense.

"Yeah, well it's hard enough on us but Dad…" Erin sighed, "He hasn't been home. At least not when any of the rest of us are there. Grampa has practically moved back in and says that Dad hasn't come in before 3am this whole week."

"He's not with your Mom?" Abbey tried.

"They have visiting hours. He's not supposed to be there after 9. And I just left there, Mom's not exactly conscious and none of the nurses recall seeing him today."

Abbey swallowed, kicking herself for not seeing the turmoil behind her boss' inscrutable mask. "What can I do?"

Erin was quiet, "I don't know. I don't want him to think we're handling him…but…"

"I can give a call when he leaves the office. So at least someone knows?" Abbey offered.

"That won't get you in trouble?" Erin asked.

"Well, do me the favor of not telling him." Abbey smiled softly, "It's not exactly appropriate but if he's not going to go home, at the very least he shouldn't be alone."

Abbey could hear Erin's soft cries on the other end of the line. "Thank you."

* * *

The next week, as the Chief left the office Abbey would check which Reagan offspring was off duty and give them the heads up to find their father and join him either at a bar or on his insomniatic walks around the city.

She also began making sure there was always hot coffee available in the morning to help ease the transition back into the day and combat his sleepless evenings.

Less than a week into this tiring routine Abbey arrived early to prepare the coffee and leave a pot in his office but when she entered, he was already there; asleep on the couch.

He was not in uniform; he wore a pair of khakis and an untucked, old flannel shirt. The couch was far too short for him and his legs were bent nearly to his chest and his arm tucked under his head.

She was instantly reminded of the morning she stumbled upon him sleeping in the pews of St. Paul's and the same sense of wonder and concern washed over her.

Even in sleep he appeared distressed, gaunt even, with red rimmed eyes.

She silently stepped out of the room and dialed the now familiar number.

"Is he there?" Danny picked up right away.

"Yes." She replied briskly, "I just got in. He's sleeping on the couch. I don't know when he got here."

Danny released a slow breath. "Okay."

"Should I wake him?" She asked.

Danny sighed, "I dunno...no, actually, don't. Let him have this."

"Danny..." She pressed quietly.

"Mom passed away last night." Danny replied. "The doc kicked Dad out sometime after 11. We don't know where he went from there but it certainly wasn't home because that's where the rest of us have been."

"Danny..." She breathed, "I'm so sorry..."

"Don't be." He muttered, "She was in pain, this...this is better...she's at rest... We just..." He sighed and she could hear him shifting on the other side of the phone, "We just don't know what to do for Dad." His usual gruff voice softened to a whisper.

"Well, please, let me know what I can do to help." She offered.

"You're already doing it Detective." Danny replied.

He sighed through the line and she could visualize him wiping a hand down his face, "If he wakes up before one of us gets there let me know. Don't let him leave alone, okay?"

"Copy that." She replied sadly.

"Thanks Baker." Danny muttered before hanging up.

She released a slow breath and said a silent prayer for Mary Reagan. She then removed her shoes and quietly re-entered the office in stocking feet.

She darkened the blinds in the window. Pausing at the familiar discarded jacket she felt tears prick at the back of her eyes as she remember the doting love Mary had for her husband and the kind words she had always had for Abbey.

Blinking away the moisture she picked the jacket up, shook it out and hung it up on the hook.

"Why you doing that?" His voice was thick with sleep and grief and she froze with her back to him, the answer stuck in her throat.

"Baker?" Frank asked again, "I've never asked you to clean up after me; why did you start hanging up my coat?"

She looked down to her feet, before turning and replying in a small voice, "Your wife asked me too."

He blinked, face slackened, obviously not prepared for that response, "What?"

Baker breathed quietly, "She said...She likes seeing you looking well put together and she wanted my help to keep you from wrinkling your good jackets."

Frank's jaw locked and he nodded mutely.

"If it's a problem, I can stop..." She offered, wincing.

Frank swallowed, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth slowly giving a small shake of his head. "Please..." He swallowed again, "Please don't stop..." He locked eyes with her, "If you don't mind?"

Baker nodded once, "Of course not."

He slowly pulled himself in to a sitting position, groaning as he readjusted his legs. He looked blearily around the office, seemingly lost before looking back at Abbey but not saying anything.

"I spoke with Danny this morning." She offered.

"Ah." Frank nodded, eyes moving around the room, not settling. "He worried?"

Abbey crossed her arms across her middle and tilted her head, "Should he be?"

Frank looked at her, "I..." His defensive stance crumbled before he was through the first syllable and he looked away again, "I don't know."

Abbey swallowed and looked down. The silence pressed upon them until Frank shifted and rubbed at his eyes.

"Coffee?" She offered.

He nodded slowly. "Please." He took a short, breath, "And a copy of whatever you consider to be necessary parts of the schedule the rest of the week."

She shook her head, "Nothing is necessary right now, Boss."

His lips gave a small twitch of appreciation, "You know what I mean, top priority stuff."

"Okay." She nodded, pausing just a moment before exiting the office.

She fixed the coffee on autopilot and moved to the desk to collect the calendar. As she flipped the pages her hands shook and she stopped herself, releasing a long breath and allowing the tears to build and fall.

At the sound of approaching footsteps she quickly wiped at her face with a napkin.

She looked up in time to see an older man with tired eyes approaching her desk.

"Sir." She acknowledged uncertainly. The former PC was a familiar face due to his ongoing charitable positions and the numerous family photos in the Chief's office but she had never seen him come to his son's office and Abbey had never met him in person.

Her first thought was that he was shorter than she had anticipated.

He came to a stop in front of her desk, hands in his pockets. "He awake?" The question was quiet and heavy.

She blinked, nodding, "Yes. I was just about to bring this in." She held up the coffee and folder.

The older man snorted, "Of course." He shook his head, "I got it."

She nodded and passed him the folder and mug before crossing over and opening the door for him.

"Francis?" Was the last thing she heard from the older man before closing the door on the father and son.


	8. Eventuation

"Sir?" Abbey placed mug of coffee on the desk.

Chief Reagan rubbed his thumb and forefinger down the bridge of his nose before he glanced at the mug, "Yes. Thank you Baker."

She stepped back, clenching her fingers tightly as she looked him over; it was only 11am but he looked as if it were much later, top shirt button opened, and eyes tired. She had no idea what time he had come in in the morning but it had to have been earlier than 6:30 when she arrived.

Unfortunately for the Chief, there was no slow, easy transition back to normal following Mary's passing. After the two days off he had allowed himself, he had been pulled back to work with no respite.

Among the mountainous pile of folders and memos she had personally placed on his desk, her eye caught something new.

"Is that what I think it is?" She gestured to a folded paper on the desk.

He put down the mug and glared at the paper. " _You_ shouldn't be thinking _anything_." He muttered, settling back into his chair.

"I can't help it." She smiled and shrugged, "I'm a detective."

A small smirk lifted his mustache, "That you are."

He huffed, running a hand down his face, "If you think it's a subpoena to a grand jury investigating Commissioner Connors, then you would be correct."

She grimaced and looked down, "So, then it's true."

"You know better than to assume that a grand jury means anything more than someone is asking questions."

She rolled her eyes, "With all due respect, this has been building for weeks now. Convening a grand jury simply shows that someone is taking the rumors seriously. That they have some merit."

Frank didn't say anything, just sighed heavily.

She took a hesitant step closer to the desk, "There have been other rumors too." Her voice was low.

"I don't comment on rumors." He replied gruffly, avoiding looking at her as he picked up a folder from the stack and flicked it open.

"Well…" She tested the waters "The Mayor's office called."

He froze.

"They didn't want me to schedule anything. Just asked that you call him back at your convenience between 12 and 4 this afternoon." She tilted her head, watching to see if could tell how the Chief processed this information.

His head slowly rose, looking up at her, a grimace crossing his features. He locked in to her inquisitive gaze for a beat before looking away.

"We talked briefly back in August when this thing with the Commissioner first started heating up." He admitted quietly.

She said nothing.

He looked back up and rolled his eyes, "It doesn't mean anything."

She still stood quiet.

" _Really!_ " He insisted again.

She tried to contain the smile she felt pressuring her lips.

He sighed and dropped his pen to the desk, "Look, you and I both know that perception dictates reality. Regardless of his guilt or the level of his indiscretions, the NYPD can't afford to have its integrity tarnished because of what it looks like Connors might have done."

Abbey nodded.

"Either he's going to resign or be canned or the position minimized." Frank continued, "Regardless, until it's sorted out, the Mayor is going to be leaning more heavily on the Chiefs. Lorenzo and this office in particular." He sighed, "Hence…"

He lifted up a folder and gestured to the stack in his inbox.

Abbey nodded, "I had noticed."

"But it seems you've developed a different conclusion?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Suspicion is more like it." She couched.

"Being…?"

She shrugged, "Just that more likely than not that the 14th floor will be vacated, and you've already been picking up a significant amount of the slack."

"Looking for a promotion, Baker?" He pierced her with an amused but unwavering look.

She sighed, "No sir."

He rubbed his forehead and looked down to the desk, "Don't read too much into it Baker." He rolled his shoulders, "I just…" He breathed out, "Right now is a good time to keep myself busy. Occupied. Nothing professional or ambitious about it." He muttered.

Abbey swallowed, looking down, "Of course, I'm sorry sir."

He made a vague gesture with his hand, "Don't be."

She offered a soft grin, "Well, considering the timing, it's very kind of the Commissioner and the Mayor to leave you with so much to do."

At that he looked up and released a soft chuckle, "Yes, very considerate. Cleaning up after bureaucrats; what a thoughtful bereavement gift."

She grinned and moved back to the door, "I'll keep it coming, Sir."

"Thank you Baker…" he called after her as she closed the door behind her.

On the far side of the door she leaned back against it and released a long sigh.

She raised an eyebrow noting that in the 2 minutes she was gone the stack of folders on her own desk had grown.

She sighed again. The Chief may be throwing himself into the work to avoid his grief but she had just started dating the most amazing man and too many nights at the office until 10pm was NOT the best way to grow a new relationship. If the Mayor was refusing to run things through the Commissioner's office perhaps she could request some of his administrative team to assist her with the growing burden here.

She settled herself at the desk and dug in, blissfully unaware of the time until,

"I finally figured it out."

She looked up, smiling indulgently at Henry Reagan approaching her desk. "Oh?"

He nodded, "Yep, Grace Kelly. Spitting image. With your hair like that it's just like in 'To Catch a Thief'."

Abbey's eyebrows rose. "Well, that's one way to get on a woman's good side."

"I may be old, but I'm not dumb." Henry grinned.

Abbey smiled, "Of course not, sir."

He gave her a jaunty salute, "Okay, Gracie, clock the boss out on meal." He held up a paper bag and didn't wait for a response before he moved to let himself into the Chief's office.

Henry Reagan's appearance was not unexpected. Since the Chief had returned to work, once a day, a member of his family would come by the office, forcing the man to take a break, usually around lunch.

Prior to Mary's illness Abbey had hardly known most of the Reagans, now she was becoming familiar with them all.

Danny made Abbey nervous. Like his father, he wasn't much for small talk, but where the Chief's silence was often comfortable; Danny was tightly coiled, exuding tension. He didn't have the practiced ease or charm of his father and the only time she succeeded in prying a smile from him was when she inquired after his own, recently born son.

Joe was easier than Danny. He too was quiet but, like his father, he could transmit whole conversations and feelings with his eyes. He was quick with a joke and a warm smile. The first time he had to wait in her alcove he was quick to tell her how lucky her boyfriend was and give a cocky a wink. He had just made detective a few months previous and even as he was trying to flirt it was obvious his attention constantly scanning the room.

Abbey didn't get to know Erin as well as her brothers just because the Chief never seemed to make her wait. Regardless of what he was working on or with whom he might be meeting, Frank Reagan always seemed to have time for his daughter. Erin's mutual adoration of her father was obvious and the two of them would more frequently go out for an extended lunch then the quick sandwiches at the desk he most often shared with his boys.

Abbey kept a special place in her heart for the rare days when Erin would bring her young daughter with her. Those were the only times that the once familiar, full Frank Reagan smile would reappear. Hints of his old joviality would surface as he lifted the young girl into a bear hug despite her protests of getting too big.

The Chief saved a different smile for his youngest, a gentle, reflective one that only came out for Jamie. Something would connect between the two men that Abbey couldn't decipher. Jamie only came in twice; he was first to take his father to lunch when he went back to work the day after the funeral, and a few weeks later he showed up on a Friday night and pulled his Dad for dinner. Like Erin, Frank did not make his youngest wait long, but Abbey suspected that was most likely because Jamie spent most of his days in Boston.

Jamie was cute and less reserved than either of his brothers but the Reagan man that Abbey most enjoyed seeing was Henry. Like his grandson, Joe, Henry was quick with a smile and a flirtatious remark but unlike many older cops he seemed to realize Baker was a cop who just happened to be in an administrator's role. He asked about the precincts she had worked, what various Sergeants and Captains she knew, which firearm she preferred and would invariably follow up each of her answers with a 'back in the day' story related to the issue at hand. She surmised that part of the attention may have been to distract her before he would simply walk into the Chief's office and declare lunch, not waiting for nor caring about whatever business was in progress.

The Chief had locked eyes with her the first time Henry barged in but quickly waived away her concern.

Today though, when he moved to enter the office he almost walked smack into his son who had been approaching the door himself while shrugging into his uniform jacket.

Seeing his father, Frank sighed.

"Going somewhere?" Henry needled.

" _No._ I usually spend my days just standing in front of the door." Frank rolled his eyes.

"No need to be snippy." Henry straightened, "I come bearing pastrami from Katz's."

Frank glanced at the bag, eyes indicating interest for a beat.

"Sorry, can't today, Pops." He stepped around his father and approached Abbey's corner, "Baker, I'll be at City Hall."

"Of course sir." She pulled out the written agenda. "Do you know for how long?"

He frowned, "No. But it probably won't be short."

"I'll take care of things." She affirmed, internally groaning at the prospect of yet again having to reschedule a Chief's meeting.

"How about if I tag along?" Henry smiled.

"How about if you don't." Frank shot back.

"Hey now," Henry admonished, "I'm not saying I come in with you. Just walk along, maybe meet you on the bench across the street after? Pastrami is best fresh..." He nudged Frank's arm, "After what we talked about this morning, maybe I think you could use some extra encouragement."

Frank grimaced at him, "I don't want any extra encouragement, Pops."

"Just because you don't want it doesn't mean I don't think you need it." Henry grinned, "A little birdy told me…"

"Pop!" Frank snapped.

He swallowed whatever he was about to say next and glanced around the hall, lips tight.

He sighed, "You know I can't talk about anything right now."

Henry shook his finger up at Frank, "I still have a lot of allies around this department. You'd be surprised what news finds it way to me with out my even having to ask."

"Yeah, but you did this time, didn't ya?" Frank called him out.

Henry shrugged and looked away, tossing a wink to Baker.

Frank's lips flattened and he glanced to Abbey for a beat. She made a show of keeping her eyes focused on the computer monitor, even as her fingers typed gibberish.

She was aware that Henry had moved back in to the Reagan family house near the end of Mary's illness. She wasn't sure if he was still there but the idea of the two Reagans living together gave her no small amusement.

Perhaps, she mused, that was also one of the reasons the Chief was eager to put in long hours.

Frank sighed, "I suppose I can't stop you from following me."

Henry smiled broadly, "It's a lovely day for a trip to City Hall!"

"It's never a lovely day for a trip to City Hall." Frank grumped.

"Ah, wait until you're retired." Henry smiled while Frank rolled his eyes.

He waived in Abbey's direction with his cap, "I'll call in on my way back."

She nodded and made the necessary note in the daily book and then watched them leave.

It would seem the former commissioner had heard the same rumor that was flying around 1PP. Abbey fidgeted with her pen and tried not to get distracted by the changes that seemed likely to be coming.


	9. Anabasis

"It's gotta be Vincenzo."

Abbey could hear the voices coming from the kitchen as she approached.

"I don't know. He rubs some people the wrong way."

She drew up short. That was Chief of Detectives Brissett; Abbey would not have expected him to join in gossip.

"Not like Reagan does. Frank is so goody-two shoes, makes regular guys nervous."

She recognized Deputy Chief McNally.

"What? You're crazy. Reagan is the _definition_ of a cop's cop." Brissett defended, "If you're nervous around him it's just because you've got something to hide."

McNally guffawed, "Not me, man. I'm just saying that Vincenzo is a regular guy, a street guy, you know?"

Against her better judgment Abbey loitered in the hall just around the corner from the door. She heard the refrigerator door slam shut.

"Look, I don't know how long you've known him, but Frank Reagan ain't some polly-anna desk jockey." A chair scraped against the tile as Brissett kept talking, "My old partner, Dorsey? He used to work the same precinct when Reagan first came on the job. He had some stories about what that group would get into. Trust me, Frank's a regular guy with plenty of street in him."

"Yeah, what was that? 30 years ago?" A microwave beeped, "He's been a white shirt for over a decade now." Plastic wrap was crinkled and the trash can banged.

"So has Vincenzo."

"I don't know…" McNally sighed and a chair moved, "I mean did you hear about the dressing down Reagan gave his own son last year after the Bennett case went south?"

"Yeah? So? Sounds fair. Smart even. He isn't about to be a hook for anyone, not even Joe." Brissett was talking around food in his mouth.

"Yeah, but yelling at him isn't going to make everyone suddenly forget they're related." A pause and the sound of scrapping utensils, "I'm just saying if a guy goes that hard after his own kid, how much luck does a regular guy have? V would never ream out family just because of appearances. It's called loyalty."

"I dunno." McNally was quiet for a beat and Abbey could picture his characteristic squint, "Sounds like integrity to me. And considering what Connors is putting this department through…"

Footsteps came from the opposite side of the hall and Abbey shuffled to make sure she was concealed around the corner.

"What about what Connors has done?" Deputy Chief Campanella's voice entered the conversation.

"Nothing new, just that Bobby here seems to think that in light of Connors being crooked that the next commissioner should be Mr. Moral High Ground." McNally explained as the fridge door opened again.

"Reagan?" Campanella clarified, the fridge banging shut.

McNally laughed, "Exactly! Who else?"

Campanella sighed loudly, "Well, I think Bobby may have a point." A chair moved, "Frank is a good cop. Had great instincts as a detective, never met anyone with a better memory for people and details. And it can't be denied he plays it fair, I don't know anyone without an axe to grind who has a legitimate beef." A bag of chips was opened and Campanella continued around eating the snacks, "Plus he's been one of the most productive Department Chief's since I've been paying attention to these things. And Brissett here is right, given what we're going through with Connors it's not a bad idea to put a real cop with some old school, traditional values in a very public place…But…" He took a long drink from something, "I don't for a minute buy the alter boy act."

Abbey could hear both Brissett and McNally shuffle.

McNally spoke first, quietly, "You got dirt?"

"Nah, not really," Campanella laughed, "Not anything more than what every other decent cop has done back when he was in the bag. But what I'm talking about is the cookie he hired last year as his office assistant."

Abbey resisted the urge to groan in annoyance even as Brissett let out a low, "Ohhh yeah."

"Seriously, of anyone he could have hired he digs up the blond, blue eyed ice queen with mile long legs? You'll never be able to convince me it's because of her typing skills."

Abbey rolled her eyes and clamped her mouth shut, feeling a heated blush rise up the back of her neck.

"Ha! Point taken. Maybe the man isn't so squeaky clean." McNally laughed.

"Yeah, he's a red blooded cop just like any of us." A chair squeaked and she could picture Campanella leaning back with that smarmy grin on his face.

"He's just smarter about it. That's also not a bad thing to have in that office." Brissett observed.

"Yeah, until enough time has passed since Mary and he starts getting lonely and actually makes some moves on that pretty little thing." Campanella snickered, "Bastard is so rich with Irish Luck that he could probably get somewhere too!"

Abbey was so consumed with anger she could hear the blood pumping in her ears; which was the excuse she gave herself for not hearing the familiar heavy footsteps come up behind her.

"Eavesdropping Baker?" He was kind enough to whisper.

Her eyes went wide and she quickly stepped away from the corner, lightly pulling on his jacket sleeve so he would follow her.

His amused smile faltered and his eyes flicked back in the direction of the doorway.

"What?" He asked, concern crossing his face, once they were a decent distance from the break room.

She stopped and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, "I'm sorry, that was…" She looked up at him and then away, "That was humiliating."

His brow crinkled, "What was being said…or the fact that I caught you?"

She looked to her feet, "Both."

He crossed his arms, looked up and down the hall and then back to her, "You don't strike me as an evesdropper, Baker."

She looked back up at him, eyes wide an earnest, "I'm not, really I'm not. I promise I've never…"

He held up a hand cutting her off, "I know. I trust you. I'm saying that if you were listening in there must have been something being said that was worth hearing."

She sighed and tried to think back as to exactly what it was that made her stop and listen.

He was watching her intently and she tried to remain steady under his inquisitive gaze.

"They were talking about…" She shook her head, brushing it off, "Really, I'm sorry, it won't happen again. Just never mind."

He lifted a single brow and looked back down the hall. He pursed his lips and looked back at Baker.

"Don't go anywhere." He ordered, then stuck his hands in his pockets and casually walked back down the hall, turning past where she had concealed herself and strode right into the break room.

Abbey focused on breathing steady and just over a minute later he reappeared, a water bottle in one hand.

He returned to where Abbey had remained waiting.

He grimaced, "So that was McNally, Brissett and Campanella. I am willing to bet I could guess what they were discussing."

Abbey felt the blush returning to her neck, "Really sir, nothing."

Frank's eyes narrowed, "Did Deputy Campanella suggest something inappropriate? That maybe made you uncomfortable?"

She released her breath and she knew confirmation had to be written all over her face.

She squared her shoulders, "Sir, I'm sorry. Those kinds of comments usually don't bother me."

"But they did today." He intoned gravely.

She swallowed, remembering the rush of anger she had felt, "Usually…" She began slowly, mind whirring with the safest way to articulate it, "Comments about me are just that." She looked back at him intently, "Usually, they don't slander someone else."

Frank looked down, "Ah. I see." He released a long breath through his nose before looking back up, locking eyes with her, "You know there's no truth to whatever they were implying; subtly or otherwise."

She nodded, "Of course, Sir. I know that."

He gave a satisfied nod, "Okay, well, then, don't be bothered by it on my account."

She sighed.

"Sir, if I may," She waited until he looked straight at her, "You may avoid it if you'd like but everyone knows you are under consideration for the commissioner job. You can't be having trouble, real or otherwise following you around."

He took a deep breath, eyes drifting back down the hall. "Let's take a walk."

She blinked, "Sir?"

"Come on." He gestured toward the stairs, "Let's get out of this building."

"Umm…Okay…" She followed his lead and soon found herself sitting on a bench in James Madison Plaza, the street vendor coffee in her hand matching the one in the Chief's.

He settled himself next to her leaning back and relaxing against the bench. Despite the unseasonably pleasant weather she found herself unable to equally relax. Still, she waited; knowing he would soon fill the silence.

"Sometimes," He began, "It's hard to make decisions in that building. You forget about the world out here." He gestured around the small park filled with municipal employees on meal and smoke breaks.

He didn't look directly at her, just kept looking ahead, his inscrutable gaze made even more so by his sunglasses.

"I want to thank you for what you've done this past year. Especially this summer…" He paused, swallowed and rolled his lips, "Well you and I both know there were days when you were the one really running the department."

He took a steadying breath, "And this past month, with all the extra crap that's rolled down hill…"

He turned to look at her, "I really could not have gotten through this year without you."

She swallowed, trying to maintain her professional visage, "I'm just thankful for the opportunity to contribute, sir."

A small smile flashed across his face and but disappeared just as quickly.

"You do Abigail. You absolutely do."

She froze at the sound of her first name, trying to recall if he had used it at all in the previous year and coming up empty.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I'm the same way you know." He glanced at her, "Just hoping to contribute. Be a part of something that can make an actual tangible difference in people's lives. For this city."

He looked away again. "I considered retirement last month."

Abbey's eyebrows rose and her heart quickened.

"I'm not maxed out yet but I have a decent enough pension that I could disappear to Montauk and go fishing every day for the rest of my life." He smirked, "There are days, especially recently, when that seems like the smart way to go…"

He sighed.

"But of course, as always, my wife knew me better than I know myself and there was something she thought I should do."

He looked to his hands clasped in front of him and fiddled with his wedding ring.

The silence dragged on until Abbey could not resist, "Sir?"

He took a deep breath, "It won't be announced until 4pm but the grand jury in the commissioner's case has voted to indict. An arrest warrant will be issued and he'll either turn himself in or be picked up by tomorrow morning in time for arraignment court."

Abbey couldn't keep her jaw from falling open. Suspicion and innuendo was one thing, but for the Commissioner to actually be arrested was shocking.

"Needless to say," Frank continued, "The Mayor was done waiting for a resignation and fired Connors a couple of hours ago."

Abbey felt her spine straighten and a smile begin to tug at her mouth, "And now he wants you."

It wasn't a question; she was as sure of it as she'd ever been sure of anything and she couldn't help the kernel of pride she felt for the man in front of her.

For his part, Frank did not appear over joyed. He shrugged one shoulder, "Like I've mentioned, we've discussed it in passing throughout this whole mess." He looked to Abbey, "But yes, he made the offer official just after he canned Connors."

He winced, "He wants to be able to announce it to the media at the same time as the indictment and the firing are made public so there's no time or reason to write a story about a headless department"

Abbey didn't bother containing her smile, "That's great. Congratulations sir."

He snorted and leaned back against the bench again, "I haven't accepted it yet."

Her face fell and she glanced at her watch. "Sir, it's 2pm."

He nodded, unperturbed, "So I have 2 hours."

"Sir…" She leaned forward, "What…"

He shrugged, "I have my reservations. It's not like Chief of Department. This is a much more visible position. The commissioner is practically a politician, pressure comes from many more directions. Plus, it's a civilian appointment; I'd have to technically resign from the department."

She nodded slowly, understanding. The job was not just making speeches and having everyone jump to attention at your mere presence; the responsibility and blame for nearly every NYPD decision rested in that office. And to couple that burden with giving up the identity of being an actual member of the NYPD, she could appreciate his distaste.

"Sir," She started, glancing at the ring on his right hand, "I suspect that the NYPD is like the Marines."

He looked at her, eyebrow raising over his sunglasses, silently waiting for her analogy.

"Well," She continued, "Once a Marine, always a Marine, right? I don't think it would be possible for you to ever stop being an NYPD Cop."

A slow, warm smile lifted the corner of his mouth and he looked away, again speaking to the horizon, "Funny, that's what Pops said."

Abbey grinned in pleasant surprise. "And he should know, right?"

Frank nodded, "Yeah. He also knows the precipitous downside."

"But he still thinks you should do it?" She asked.

Frank shrugged, "He's under the impression that I can learn from his mistakes."

He grimaced and Abbey could practically see his eyes roll behind his shades.

"Just another thing to look forward to, daily career advice over breakfast." He grumbled.

Abbey smiled, "Could be a nice resource that no one else has had."

"Mhrm." He refused to straight out agree.

"What about the boys?" Abbey asked, "Have you had a chance to talk to Danny and Joe?"

Frank nodded, "Joe's fine. I was in his shoes once, having your old man as Commissioner isn't too much different than Chief of Department; they're both the biggest hook that you can't claim and the internal scrutiny is basically the same. I think Joe gets that."

Abbey nodded, "And Danny?"

"Danny…" The Chief released another long breath, but this time it stuttered, "Danny's unit is being deployed again. His company is slated for a 12 month tour starting early next year. He's staying home with Linda and Jack for the meantime and who knows what he'll do when he comes home."

Abbey took in a sharp breath. She knew the Chief worried every day when Danny was deployed earlier in the year, it hardly seemed fair for him to have to go through it again so soon. She stayed silent.

He rolled and reset his shoulders, "And as I mentioned, Mary was very clear on what she thought I should do if it ever came to this."

He looked away.

"So, you're going to do it then?" Abbey pressed.

Frank took off his sunglasses and wiped the bridge of his nose with the same hand, sighing.

"I can't help the feeling that I'm going to hate it." He gave an amused half smile, "That there plenty of qualified guys happy to move up to the top rung and who are bureaucrats at heart."

Abbey tightened her mouth, "Sorry sir, and not to slant any of the guys, but how many people who would want the job would you honestly trust to do the job?"

"Phew…" He breathed out, "That's a harsh one, Baker."

She tilted her head and tried to think of a softer articulation, "I'm sorry sir, but you're right, I know there are plenty of guys who would want to be in the top office but I just don't believe that anyone who wants that job, knowing the stress that comes with it, is doing it for the right reasons. The person who takes that job needs to do it because…" She paused, smirking as the words came to her, "Because he wants to contribute. Because he loves this department and is willing to bear the burden of the office in order to make a real, tangible difference for the department and everyone in this city."

Frank leaned back, eyes steadily regarding her. A beat later he slowly shook his head, "Using my own words against me…" he muttered more to himself than to her.

She shrugged and smiled.

He slowly nodded, "Okay. I have a few things I need to get straight with the mayor but before I even have that discussion there is one thing I need to make sure of."

She tilted her head, waiting.

"Baker…" He smirked, "You were hired as the Senior Admin Assistant to the Chief of Department. Not as assistant to Frank Reagan."

She felt a pit begin to grow in her stomach, "You have every right to stay doing the job you've been doing very well for 15 months now. I can already tell you that Andrew will be remaining at his desk; if I go to the 14th floor, he will not be coming."

Abbey nodded slowly.

"However, due to the nature of Commissioner Connor's departure there will be a cleaning house of most of his administrative staff, and that includes McMullen."

Abbeys eyes grew as she pictured Detective McMullen, the sullen looking man who could always been found at Connors' side, a stack of folders in hand.

Reagan continued, "His job is not incredibly different than what you're doing now; keeper of the schedule, gate keeper, all around right-hand man…" Frank explained, eyeing Abbey carefully, "But, as there is more burden on the Commissioner's office, there is more burden on everyone in it, including the admin."

He paused, giving her space to object.

She remained silent.

"The Commissioner's office has a team of 3 administrative assistants, in addition to his own work, the person in McMullen's position is responsible for managing them as well as the Commissioner's security detail…" He rolled his eyes and held up a hand, "Which, don't even get me started on that nonsense."

She smiled.

He huffed, again turning serious, "Baker, like the commissioner is a more visible position than the Chief of Department so too the Commissioner's senior assistant more visible than the CoD's senior assistant. You'd be with me at most public events and likely end up in the paper, even if it's just in the background of a few pictures."

She creased her brow.

"My point is," He sighed, "Being on top puts a target on your back and conversations like whatever you overheard today won't go away. In fact, if you come with me, and I give you a promotion, which I _will_ do, insinuations will likely increase in frequency. At least for a while."

She nodded slowly.

"I don't ever want to put you in a position you don't want to be in." He looked at her, eyes serious.

"I appreciate that."

He took a deep breath and sat back, hands planted on his thighs, "That being said, I also have very little confidence in my ability to survive this without you. So, what do you say, willing to brave the 14th floor with me?"

She blinked and resisted the urge to give him an immediate yes. He was right, the position would be more than what she was currently doing, something which she felt she had only just started to get a handle on. And his other point about the rumors was valid as well; again, not for her sake but she didn't want to be the cause of any smear to his reputation.

She bit her lip, thinking and glanced at him. He was watching her with a look she had not seen before; if she didn't know better she'd say it was trepidation.

She tilted her head, "Who would you hire if I said no?"

"I wouldn't hire anyone." His response was swift.

She furrowed her brow, "Sir?"

He shrugged, "I wouldn't take the job."

She blinked. Then blinked again. He appeared dead serious. "Sir!"

"What?" He held up his hands, "I don't care the guilt trip the mayor or my father or my old partners lay on me; I am not walking into that shark tank without someone I can trust implicitly. I am perfectly happy in the role I have now. It won't be any loss to the department if I don't step up."

"Yes, it would be." She responded automatically and emphatically, "You're the best one for the job."

His eyes warmed, even has his mouth remained unsmiling, "Well then, partner, what do you say?"

She shook her head, smiling, "I've got your back sir. Now, please, go call the mayor."


	10. Investiture

_A/N – Hi everyone – thank you so much for the super encouraging reviews. I appreciate your thoughts as I'm playing with these characters! Just to set up this chapter; it is a series of vignettes from their first year in the office. Given that according to the headstone, Mary died in Sept 2005 and according to the episode "The Job" Frank was offered the PC job the next month this chapter takes place in the year 2006._

* * *

January

"Please tell me there aren't any more of _these_." Frank came to a halt in front of Abbey's desk after another man in a slick suit exited the Commissioner's office.

She smiled sympathetically. "Sorry, Sir. One more at 1400 this afternoon."

He sighed dejectedly reaching out for the tan folder she indicated.

He flipped it open, immediately looking back up, "Is this some kind of joke?"

She looked back, confused, "No sir…"

"Garrett Moore?" He read allowed from the summary page.

"Um, yes Sir?" She nodded, confirming it against her agenda.

His face crinkled and he gave a slight shake of disbelief, "Is this the same Garrett Moore I'm thinking of?"

She blinked, "Well, um, I don't know, Sir." She peered into the open folder still in Frank's hands, "His resume is in the front flap."

"Oh I know it…" He muttered, giving the resume a cursory glance. "Moore's been a pain in the department's ass since I was in the detective squad."

He flipped the folder closed and looked up at her, "Plus he was working for the mayor's opponent up until November. Said some pretty rough things about the administration, including this department."

He shook his head in confusion, "Do you know how he even ended up on the list?" He looked back at the closed folder, "Someone leveraging something?"

Abbey shook her head slowly, "No, Sir…he called my line, directly, 30 minutes after the post was vacated."

Frank blinked, pursed his lips together and glanced back down at the folder.

"Okay…" He muttered, lost in contemplation.

Eventually, he looked back up, "Forget it." He glanced over Baker's uncharacteristically cluttered desk, "How are you doing?"

She took a deep breath and looked around the piles before smiling back at him. "I'm getting there."

He nodded and gestured to the other desks in the office lobby, "They working out alright?"

She nodded, "Yes, I still need to hire Murphy's replacement but Guertin and Greenberg seem to be more than okay with most of the changes."

"Good. Good." He nodded slowly.

Before she had the opportunity to ask him about the security detail the elevator dinged and Linda Reagan came around the corner.

"You ready and waiting for me, Frank?"

A flash of dread crossed Frank's face before he turned a smile in the direction of his daughter-in-law, "Hey there." He stepped forward to drop a small kiss on her cheek.

Linda smiled back at him, "You ready for this?"

"You know, I really appreciate it but I don't know if this is really the best time." He glanced at his watch and back to Baker, "When is that thing?"

Baker tilted her head catching the knowing look on Linda's face.

"Sir, you have nothing until the last DCPI interview at 1400." She replied innocently.

Frank's eyes narrowed, "Well there's still all this transitional material to sort through…"

Abbey looked down at her agenda and shook her head, "Well sir, it's been two months, we've taken care of most of the top priority stuff. I mean, there are absolutely still items to be attended to…"

Frank turned, "See? Sorry dear, going to have to take a rain check."

"…But they are things we've put off for good reasons." Abbey continued.

Frank turned back around, shoulders tense and eyes piercing.

Emboldened by Linda's laughter Abbey smiled sweetly, "Is there something I've left off the agenda, sir?"

Linda stepped forward with a wide smile, "My sister has a friend who is a tailor; we're going to get Frank set up with some suits appropriate for the _New York City Police Commissioner_."

Abbey's eyebrows arched, "Really….?"

Frank deflated, "I have suits." He gestured to himself and the brown slacks and tweed jacket he was currently wearing, "This is unnecessary."

"You have suits that might be appropriate for a grandfather taking his grandkids to Sunday mass." Linda grinned, "But look at how nice Detective Baker dresses; don't you think you should have something nicer than a 20 year old blazer from your detective days when you're standing next to her?" Linda yanked playfully on his sleeve.

He pouted and glanced back at Baker, "I miss my dress blues."

"Sorry sir." Abbey grinned, "Just for special occasions now."

He huffed and turned back to Linda, "Are you sure you want to do this today? Where are your boys?"

Linda forced a small smile, "I'm giving Danny some time alone with them. They need memories of just the three of them."

Frank tilted his head to try and meet Linda's eyes, "And you need memories with the two of you. Have you talked to Pop yet? You know we'll take the boys any time you need before Tuesday."

Linda nodded, "I know. We know. I just…" She swallowed, "You know how fast they change at this age, Sean is going to be talking up a storm and Jack will have started school by the time Danny gets back. I don't want to deny him even one evening with them."

"I understand." Frank nodded, putting a warm palm on her shoulder "But still, you let us know, right?"

She nodded, "Thank you."

"So can I get out of this?" Frank grinned hopefully.

"Ha. Not on your life." Linda grabbed his elbow and steered him toward the elevator, glancing back at Baker, "He'll be back in an hour."

* * *

March

"One of these days you're going to have to accept that I'm on your side now, Frank." Garrett whined following Frank out of the elevator.

Frank was already three paces ahead of him, "I don't see myself _having_ to do anything, Garrett."

Abbey looked up and did a double take as he walked past, a muttered, "Morning, Baker." Tossed her way.

She scooped up the schedule and followed him into the office, "Morning Sir, the new suits came in?"

He spun around and paused. Caught off guard, his features noticeably softened from the defensive stance he held a second ago. "Uh, yeah. What do you think? Linda pressured me into the vest."

Abbey smiled and nodded her approval, "It's very nice sir."

He glanced at her, "I thought it might be too much."

"Three piece suits make a strong statement, Frank." Garrett interjected.

Frank glared at him until Abbey pulled his attention back, "It's a very flattering look Sir."

He glanced back down at himself, "Hrmph."

She offered a closed mouth grin even as Moore tried to make amused eye contact with her.

She ignored the DCPI and picked up the Commissioner's jacket from the chair, "You have ComStat at 11 and the Chief of D's wants to talk to you about the Battery Park case when you have a chance."

Frank nodded, accepting the folder from her hands, "Alright, I'll give him 10 right before ComStat. For now get me the DC of Brooklyn North on the phone and give me 15 minutes."

"Yes, sir." She nodded and stepped out the door.

A moment later Garrett exited the office in a huff. He glanced back at the closed doors and stepped up to Baker's desk.

"I don't know how you do it." He grimaced.

She shrugged but didn't look up as she hung up the phone and moved a stack from her inbox.

"You've been working for him how long now? 18 months?"

"About that." She muttered.

Garrett sighed, tapping his leather notebook on the edge of her desk.

"So…"

Abbey didn't look up but her full attention was prepared for whatever he was about to say next.

"Why'd you want to get off the detective beat?"

She refrained the impulse to snort, choosing to keep her head down, reading through the brief in front of her, "Just one of those things."

Through her peripheral vision she watched him fidget with his portfolio. She put down her pen with a sigh and looked up at him expectantly.

He smiled awkwardly.

She narrowed her eyes, "What can I do for you, Deputy Commissioner?"

Garrett sighed, rolling his eyes, "I'm just trying to be friendly."

Abbey lifted an eyebrow in disbelief.

Garrett glanced at the closed door, "I'm working overtime to try and show Frank that I'm not the reporter who used to hassle him for a scoops." He grimaced, "I'm here for the same reason all the rest of you are here but I can't do the job he hired me to do if he keeps freezing me out."

Abbey tilted her head and tapped her pen.

He mirrored her head tilt and smiled knowingly, "You can play up this whole ice queen thing if you want but everyone knows that no one gets on his good side without first being on yours."

She froze, eyes narrowing.

Garrett shook his head, "I only meant that in the most respectful way." He sighed, tapping his fingers on the edge of her desk, "I've been butting heads with Frank Reagan long enough to know that it's going to long road to get him to really trust me." He sighed, "I'm willing to put in the time, I think it's worth it, but I also think it will be a lot less miserable if you and I could be allies."

She stared back at him unblinking.

He sighed, "Look, I get it, you two have some kind of history, and I would never push your loyalty. Just…" He bit his lip and rocked his head side to side, "There's a reason I wanted this job, and it's not for the sterling hours and paycheck. It's because I've known Frank Reagan for as long as I have and this was my first opportunity to work with him and not against him." He sighed and his shoulders dropped, "I just want the opportunity to prove myself; to both of you."

Abbey pursed her lips and regarded him carefully. She breathed out slowly. "You can buy me lunch today. 12:15 to 13:00."

The DCPI's face broke into a grin, "Perfect."

* * *

May

"Hey, it's Detective Abbey!" Abbey glanced up at the familiar voice.

"Detective Reagan." She greeted Joe with a friendly smile, which grew wider when she realized he had his niece Nicky in one hand and was pushing a double stroller carrying Jack and Sean with the other.

"Hi you guys!"

Sean was fast asleep but Jack held up a plastic dinosaur and grinned proudly as Nicky leaned quietly against her Uncle's side.

"My old man has you working on the weekend?" Joe smirked.

"Actually," She shook her head, "I came in on my own time expecting some peace and quiet to get some things done."

Joe's grinned widened, "Ahhh, and just your luck, the boss showed up and rained on your parade."

Abbey shrugged, "What are you going to do?"

Joe's eyes narrowed, "Or maybe you figured tomorrow's the first Mother's Day since Mom passed and Dad was likely to come in looking to drown himself in work…?"

She looked away, "I will neither confirm nor deny that accusation."

"Well, I'll say it again Baker, glad you're on our side." Joe smiled warmly.

Abbey said nothing, keeping her eyes on the paper in front of her.

"Come on in to the office with me; seeing Pop's smile at these rugrats will brighten anyone's day."

She grinned at Joe's invitation but before she had the chance to move from behind the desk, the office door opened.

"Grampa!" Jack shouted, flinging his dinosaur.

"I thought I heard some familiar voices!" Frank stepped out of his office, beaming at his grandchildren.

Nicky ran up to him and he squeezed her tight as she wrapped her arms as best she could around him.

"How's my girl?" He rubbed her back.

"Great!" Nicky grinned, "Mom says I can sleep over with you and Pops tonight!"

"She did?!" Frank grinned back, "And what about you buckaroos?"

He stepped over and picked a squirming Jack out of the stroller. "Momma and 'Nty Erin are doing Mommies vaytaytion." He informed his grandfather solemnly.

"Is that so?" Frank grinned.

Abbey blinked rapidly, Joe was right, the joy evident in Frank's greeting outshone the dour mood that had permeated the office for the better part of the last 2 weeks.

Joe grinned at her, "Life was already tough being a middle child, but since the grandkids showed up I'm nothing but chopped liver."

Frank rolled his eyes, "Shouldn't you be at work or something?" He waived dismissively as he took the stroller from his son, peering into the back seat.

"Tour starts at 1600." Joe made a show of checking his watch, "Which means that I am officially clocking out of munchkin duty."

"How long has the baby been asleep?"

Joe shrugged, "Just since we hit the elevator. He's been bouncing around like crazy all afternoon. Hardly slept for his nap."

"I don't need a nap anymore Grampa!" Jack announced.

"No?" Frank turned his attention to the boy in his arms, "I do!"

"Well, I sometimes nap." Jack amended immediately.

"Alright…" Frank smiled warmly, "Everyone say good bye and thank you to Uncle Joe and then we'll take a ride in the fun car back to Grampa's house."

Nicky turned and hugged her Uncle who hugged her back before pinching his nephew's cheek. "You both be good for your Grampa, okay?" He tossed a jaunty salute and wink to Baker, "Until next time Detective."

"Detective." She returned the smile.

She turned her attention back to the Commissioner who was bent over the stroller and poking at his youngest grandson.

"Sir?"

Her boss looked up, an absolutely besotted look on his face. She couldn't help but grin.

"Do you want me to have them pull the car around?"

He glanced back to his office and then to his grand daughter standing patiently by the stroller.

He nodded, "Might as well; It looks like my work day has come to an end." He situated Jack back into the front seat of the stroller.

She smiled as she dialed his driver, "Of course sir."

He paused, "Thank you, Baker."

He turned his attention to his grandchildren, "Alright, who wants ride in Grandpa's police car?"

* * *

August

"I will NOT accept these amateur mistakes! People's lives count on us to do our jobs correctly and if I can't trust you on the little things than how am I supposed to trust you to be prepared when the big stuff comes down the road?!"

Rarely did the Commissioner yell loud enough to be heard through the supposedly sound proof doors of his office but this was the third time this week that Abbey found herself at her desk, flinching as he reamed someone out.

"Greenberg," She caught the attention of one of the office assistants, "I'll be at the DCPI's office if he's looking for me."

The young man glanced at the closed office door and nodded wearily.

She quickly took the small flight of stairs and stopped at the first office on the corner, "Deputy Commissioner?"

Garrett looked up, surprised, "Detective Baker. What can I do for you?"

She glanced up and down the hall before taking a step into the office, closing the door behind her.

"Baker…" Garrett squinted and tilted his head. "What's going on?"

Abbey shifted, grasping at her fingers, "Do you know something?"

Garrett grinned, "I know many things…"

She rolled her eyes, "I mean, is there something coming up? A big sting or maybe a credible threat? Something above my calendar?"

Garrett shook his head, "Baker, nothing is above your calendar…" He stood up, "I'll ask again; What's going on?"

Abbey sighed, "I don't know." She grabbed the back of his visitor chair, "There's something eating at him." She glanced at Garrett's wall calendar, "I mean, I've been anticipating that he might be sleepless and maybe irritable as we get close to the anniversary of his wife's passing, but…"

She clenched her teeth, "It's more like he's worried about something. Something more than usual."

Garrett was still for a moment, thinking, before he nodded slowly. "You work a lot of late days."

Abbey tilted her head, "What's that have to do with…"

"I mean…" Garrett interrupted, "That you probably don't spend much time watching the 6pm news."

"I stay apprised of the news." Abbey defended.

"You know about New York news," Garrett pointed out, "But are you up to date with what's going on overseas?"

Abbey took in a quick breath and looked down.

Garrett grimaced, "The past several weeks there's been a big push to bring US troops into Baghdad to try and stabilize the city. It's been pretty violent. Danny's unit is one of the ones moved in."

Abbey sighed, taking a long blink before nodding slowly.

Garrett stuck his hands in his pockets, "Did you notice he start to get testy sometime in July?"

Abbey just nodded.

Garrett sighed, "Yeah. It's probably just worry for Danny. Nothing we can do about it but stay good at our jobs and send some prayers."

Abbey sighed, "I should have known."

"No you shouldn't." Garrett comforted, "You have everything else of his on your plate." He paused, "But if it's any comfort I consider it part of my job to quietly keep tabs on the well being of the Reagan clan, particularly the children. If anything comes up just know you can ask me."

Abbey looked up sharply, eyes scanning Garrett's face.

He looked back with impassive earnestness.

She sighed, "Breakfast sandwich on english muffin, bacon and eggs over easy."

Garrett looked at her blankly.

"If you really want to connect with him, to get close, start over food." She explained, "It allows for distraction. He rarely eats a full breakfast before he gets to the office. If you happen to have a couple of breakfast sandwiches..." She offered him a tight smile, "It would be a good first step."

"Over easy?" Garrett confirmed with a slow head nod, not breaking eye contact.

"Don't forget the bacon." She smiled back as she opened the door and stepped out into the hall.

* * *

November

"I can't read this." Frank grumbled squinting at his phone.

"Then get glasses." Garrett shot back, rolling his eyes at Abbey who bit back a smile.

Frank grimaced, "I don't need glasses. What I need is for you to tell me why the hell you're sending me notes on my phone?"

"It's called SMS Text Messaging." Garrett explained, "Short Message Service."

Frank glared at him impatiently.

"Say, you're in a meeting with the mayor and I'm here and something bad happened, you're not going to answer your phone but I can send you a short note saying 'Call Back ASAP' and you can look at it briefly and know something is going on."

"Wouldn't that be rude?" Frank countered.

Garrett glanced to Abbey for support but she schooled her features to remain impassive.

He sighed, "Less rude than taking a phone call."

Frank rolled his eyes just as the phone beeped again.

"What?!" He glared at Garrett who held up his hands innocently.

"Hey, I just sent you the one to show you how it works." He smirked, "Must be from someone else."

Frank shook his head, "Who else would possibly use something so dumb?"

"Gee no, don't worry about it, no offense taken." Garrett smirked. "You going to check it?"

"No." Frank replied curtly, "It would be _rude_ to be sitting here talking to you and but to give my attention to my phone. What else do you have."

"Well, you're going to love this." Garrett held up a box, "Blackberry."

Frank leaned back in his chair, sighing.

"Hey," Garrett interjected, "This isn't on me. You were in the meeting when the department decided it was worth the cost for top brass to have access to their inboxes at all times."

Frank sighed, "Give me the thing."

Garrett handed the gadget over, "It's not quite set up yet, Baker that's why you're here, we need all the access codes for the Commissioner's online accounts."

She nodded, keeping her eyes on the Commissioner as he fiddled with the device.

"This is ridiculous!" He griped, holding it up, "How is anyone with normal sized hands supposed to use this thing? And how do I just dial a number? It's a phone isn't it? Shouldn't making a call on a phone be painfully obvious and not just painful?"

"Wow." Garrett grinned, "Someone put on his old man pants today."

Frank glared at him for a beat before turning his attention back to the device. "Okay, look, I get the benefits to having the internet in my pocket; I'm just saying it would be helpful if it were a little bigger so I could read the damn thing."

Abbey grinned, "I'll go get the access codes."

She left the office to the sound of Garrett again suggesting an optometrist.

She went to her filing cabinet, and opened the bottom drawer to flick through for the computer resource file.

"My old man available?"

Abbey nearly jumped out of her skin at the unexpected voice.

She straightened and turned around to see Danny Reagan, apparently fresh off the plane. He was still in a pair of utility pants and tan boots with a khaki fleece zipped up to his gaunt face.

"Detective…" She stared, he was smiling warmly but his eyes were dark and haunted.

She swallowed, "Welcome home."

He nodded once, "Thanks."

"Did he know you were coming?" Abbey's mind flicked back, trying to recall if she missed anything where the Commissioner had asked her to clear his schedule.

Danny shrugged, "I wasn't supposed to be in until Dec 1 but my CO pulled some strings so I could make it home for Thanksgiving." He scratched the side of his head, "I just landed at JFK. Linda doesn't know either, I just…wanted to talk to Dad first… so don't mention it if you speak to anyone?"

"Of course not." Abbey grinned, "They will be very grateful to have you at dinner tomorrow."

"Yeah. I bet..." Danny sighed, his eyes unfocused for a beat. He blinked back into focus and breathed, "Anyway…"

"Right!" Abbey nodded happily.

"I don't want to interrupt if it's important." Danny shuffled, "I sent him a text message when I was downstairs but I don't know if his phone even gets those…"

Abbey bit back a laugh, "Actually that's perfect. Deputy Commissioner Moore is in there trying to get him to use a Blackberry. I was just about to bring this in to him, but I'm sure he'd prefer if you brought it in."

Danny smirked, "A blackberry, huh? That outta go over well." He accepted the sheet of paper from her. "Thanks."

As the door opened she heard Garrett say "Do you know what a luddite is?" before the door shut.

Abbey sat down at her desk, releasing a slow breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She looked down and realized her hands were shaking. She blinked the tears back, surreptitiously wiping them away when the door opened again and Garrett exited.

The DCPI too had tears on his cheeks. He swallowed and handed her the access code document and the new blackberry.

"We won't be getting around to this today." He smiled gently.

Abbey accepted, grateful for Garrett's open emotion as her tears continued even as she smiled, "Of course not."

He glanced back at the closed door, "I think they're going to be in there for a while."

Abbey nodded, "You're the only meeting he had scheduled the rest of the day."

"So how about we clock out the boss early for the holiday?"

She clicked open the task manager file and moved everything off the afternoon.

Garrett nodded in approval.

"Happy Thanksgiving Garrett."

"Happy Thanksgiving Abbey."


	11. Dissipation

"This is good work, Alex."

Frank closed the folder in front of him and handed it to Abbey who made a quick note on the cover before moving it to the finished stack and handing him a new one.

"Thank you, Commissioner." Alex Bello nodded, "I have to say that everyone at IA was really appreciative that you asked us to do this."

Frank glanced up, eyebrows rising over his new reading glasses, "Appreciative of a year long review of NYPD fraternal organizations?"

"Well, yeah." Alex shrugged, "Digging into these off duty groups can shed some light on a lot of things but without a specific incident or a directive from this office...it was never going to happen."

Frank nodded, "Well, like, you, I don't relish policing other cops, but it is my job and given the circumstances that brought me here..."

"If the public doesn't trust the integrity of the force then no cop can do their job." Alex finished.

Frank grinned, "That's about right."

He flipped open the new folder Abbey had handed him, "Gamma Delta Phi?" He looked up, "What the hell is this one?"

Abbey bit back her snicker, but not fast enough to avoid catching the commissioner's attention. "Something you'd like to add, Baker?"

She bit her lip, "Sorry sir; GDP was started as a joke among some of the people in my academy class."

He raised his eyebrows and glanced back to Bello, "We talking about the same group?"

Bello nodded, "Yes, it's nothing. A handful of younger cops with college degrees who go get drunk together. No negative activity."

Frank sighed, "Well, it wouldn't be the NYPD if we weren't creating new drinking crews with each academy class."

"You can say that again." Bello agreed.

Frank turned back to Abbey, "Baker, you had a college degree before you went to the academy..." He looked over the rim of his glasses, the unasked question hanging.

She smirked, "I may have a familiarity with their preferred watering hole, sir." She squared her shoulders, "But of course, that was before I started to work for the Chief of Department."

Frank grinned back, "And where, exactly, did they come up with their fraternity name?"

Abbey looked to Bello who held up his hands, "This is all you."

She sighed, "It stands for God Damn Police, sir. As in, _'We are the GDP!'_ "

Frank blinked slowly, processing, "Gamma...Delta...Phi..." He muttered, shaking his head, amused, "Baker, tell your friends that the Commissioner says they need to get more creative."

She smiled, "Yes sir, I will absolutely let them know."

He breathed a short laugh, "God Damn Police." He looked at Bello with a smile, "This is what we've come to now, _actual_ frat boys."

He closed the folder, handed it to Abbey and accepted the next one. "Ah, now here's one I'm a little more familiar with." He looked seriously at Alex, "What is the Blue Templar up to now a days?"

Alex sighed, "Honestly its a grey area sir."

Frank flipped through the folder, "How so? This folder seems pretty thin."

"Well, there's nothing inherently wrong." He winced and scratched behind his ear, "A lot of their ETO meet ups are at downtown strip clubs but most of the guys aren't married and there's no evidence of solicitation of the women. At a couple of the common establishments Templar members have a running tab but the business owners claim it's paid off annually and even though we have no proof of that, we also have no proof other wise."

"So, grey area." Frank mumbled, reviewing the folder.

Alex shrugged, "Yeah. And I know it's not your ideal but honestly, best as I can tell, it's how they've been going now for over a decade and no harm has come from it."

Frank sighed and sat back in his chair, "Well, I may not care for it but it's not like strip clubs are illegal."

"Right." Alex nodded, flicking through his own file, "It's only a couple dozen guys now, if that. And just a couple precincts in Manhattan. All good, experienced, cops; not a single patrolman; Detectives, ESU, Warrants and a couple Narcotic Sergeants." He looked up, "You know, Danny was in for a few months before he left for the Marines the first time around."

Frank grimaced, "I had heard something to the effect."

"He's a good family man." Alex offered, "I think he dropped it more because of Linda than because of the Marines. Regardless, he hasn't rejoined since he's been back on the force."

Frank gave a single nod and looked back at the folder.

"But..." Alex edged up in his seat and Frank put the file down, "Speaking of Danny..."

Frank sighed, "If there's something going on between Internal Affairs and Detective Reagan, the Commissioner does not need to hear it; just as the Commissioner does not get personal reports on any other officer."

Alex shook his head, "I don't mean this IAB to Commissioner; It's Alex to Frank, two guys who have worked together for the better part of 15 years."

Frank pulled off his glasses and dropped them on the desk, "Okay..."

"Umm..." Alex glanced uncertainly at Abbey.

She swallowed, "Oh, um, I can go wait at my desk..." She began to stand from her chair but froze when the Commissioner waived at her to sit.

"Stay Baker." He looked tiredly at Bello, "Go ahead, Alex."

He shifted, "Look, IA is not actively looking at Danny, no complaints have been filed. But this is just a friendly heads up that it doesn't mean there haven't been incidents."

Frank pursed his lips and clasped his hands in front of him on the desk. He focused on his clenching and unclenching fingers, "What kind of incidents?"

"He's..." Alex winced, "Really toed the line with some suspects. It's not uncommon for his collars to end up with some bruises in the course of their arrest" He swallowed, "Nothing worse than old school, things; you know, _accidentally_ banging a head when putting them in the car, putting pressure on a mouthy perp's broken arm..."Alex sighed, "But it's _not_ the old school days anymore and one of these days he's going to bruise the wrong collar."

Frank ran a hand down his face. "You're right Alex, it's not the 'bad old days' anymore. If there _is_ evidence that Detective Reagan is crossing the line, and not just being a good cop dealing with resisting and violent suspects, _why_ is there no IAB investigation? His CO playing his hook?"

Alex shrugged, "Maybe. I know Danny would never use you as leverage to get out of a jam but that doesn't mean that someone else wouldn't make some assumptions and be hesitant to write up the Commissioner's son. Not everyone knows you well enough to know how the Reagans operate."

Frank grimaced and looked out the window, "I used to hate that when my old man was in this chair."

"I know." Alex sympathized, "But sir, honestly, I think in Danny's case it's more likely something else."

Frank looked back, boring holes with the intensity of his gaze.

Alex sighed, "Everyone who works with him knows what Danny went through in Iraq; first in Fallujah and then in Baghdad. And anyone who has served or who has had family who served can understand that coming back requires some transition time."

Frank gave a small nod and looked down, waiting for Alex to continue.

"I think, most likely, everyone is just giving him space to settle back in. He has always been a good cop and strong detective. He has also always been more old school than new age politically correct but he was never angry...like he has been in the past few months since he's been back." Alex waited for Frank to look up again, "Which is why I'm bringing it to you. Not as his police commissioner, but as his Father and fellow veteran."

Frank rolled his lips and breathed in deeply through his nose. He nodded slowly, "Thank you." He muttered.

He looked at the desk for a long time. "Baker, when we're done here I'd appreciate it if you could get me Detective Reagan's tour schedule for the next week."

"Yes Sir." She nodded.

He released a heavy breath and looked back up. "Okay. Where were we?" He glanced at open folder in front of him, "Seems like we covered this. What's next?"

He closed the Blue Templar file and handed it back to Abbey who passed him the next file.

"Okay, Emerald Patrol, What do you have on them?"


	12. Disquietude

"Alright, what's next?"

Abbey bit the inside of her lip, looking over the files on her lap, "The departmental budget review is Friday. You said you wanted time to study the numbers yourself in advance."

Frank heaved a loud sigh, "Is now really that time?"

"There's nothing pressing." She shrugged apologetically, handing him the folder.

He accepted the thick file with a grumble. "Didn't we already do this _last_ year?"

"Sorry, Sir." She grinned, "The annual budget is an _annual_ project."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just wish it were somebody else's project." He flipped open the cover.

"It's good to be the king." She quipped, but quickly swallowed her smile at the glare he shot her.

He rolled his eyes, "Alright, thank you, Baker."

She smiled and left the office, stopping outside the door at the sight of a familiar face, "Detective." She greeted.

Joe grinned at her, "Detective Abbey." He glanced behind her, "The PC have a few minutes?"

She stepped around him to put down the stack of folders she was carrying, "Technically, yes. But it is also the only time in the next few days that he has to prep for Friday's budget meeting if he doesn't want to bring the files home."

Joe crinkled his nose, "Yeah, he hates doing that." He glanced at his watch, "Think it will be too much of a problem for just a couple of minutes? The family is going up to Boston next weekend for Jamie's graduation and I wanted to firm up some details."

Abbey nodded, "That should absolutely be fine." She moved to open the door enough so Frank could hear her next words, "I'm sure he'd choose you over spreadsheets and projections any day."

"Who's that?" The Commissioner hollered from behind his desk. "At this point I'd choose meeting with all of City Council over these damn numbers."

Joe grinned and passed Abbey, "I like to think I am, at least, slightly preferable over City Council."

Frank looked up, grinning, "Yes, yes, you are."

Abbey smiled and closed the door, returning to her desk.

* * *

The last of the morning's reports were filed away, and she was about to log on to confirm her reservations for her own long weekend vacation with Brian the following weekend when the DCPI jogged into the room.

"We need to go in." He rushed, not looking up from the phone in his hand.

She nodded to Jim who turned on the police scanner at his desk while she got up and knocked on the door, not waiting for a reply before entering. "The DCPI is here, sir."

Garrett strode in, a quick glance at Joe, "Hi Joe."

"Deputy Commissioner Moore." Joe nodded in return. He glanced to his Dad, "Should I leave…?"

Frank didn't not reply, just held up a stalling hand, keeping his eye on Garrett. "What's happened?"

Garrett shook his head, "A shooting at a high school up town."

Frank's looked down with a quick exhale.

He looked back up to Garrett, "Injuries?"

"Odell Clark High in Harlem." Garrett read off, "Casualty report is still coming in but it looks like at least 4 dead and several more critically injured."

Frank fisted his hands, "The shooter?"

"Still at large." Garrett looked up, tensing his jaw, "Frank, all accounts are that the shooter was a white juvenile and all the victims are black."

Frank grimaced, shoulders stooping, "It's too early to talk about hate crime."

"I agree." Garrett nodded, "But it's not going to stop anyone from using the term as soon as this gets to the media."

"Who is catching the case?"

Garrett fidgeted, "Well, Major Cases have been swamped with the mess from the Esposito cases and all that fallout."

Frank pulled off his glasses, "So it's staying with the Manhattan North Detectives?"

Garrett nodded, "Yes. It's Danny and Farrell's case."

Frank winced, "Okay, just…" He glanced to Joe for a second and then back to Garrett, "Just keep the reporters off my back about that. I don't have anything to do with assigning cases."

"Already playing defense." Garrett gestured to his phone as he typed with both thumbs.

Frank looked at Baker, "Tell Jim we're going up there."

"That's my cue to head out…" Joe stood but Frank shook his head as he shed his blazer in favor of his NYPD windbreaker.

"No. Put your badge on your belt, you're coming with us."

* * *

Abbey sat shotgun, flicking through her laptop and the reports coming in.

"Sir," she tossed over her shoulder, "It looks like threats to the school were posted on an online forum starting this past weekend. A total of 6 posts getting gradually more specific, all with inflammatory racist language. The most recent was last night. The school resource officer put in a call to the 2-7 about the complaints this morning which is why response time was so fast, officers were already on their way to the school."

"Good." She caught his nod in the rearview mirror, "Keep on TARU and their tracking of where those posts came from. I want to know the minute we have an id on the shooter."

Joe let out a sigh, "Goddamnit." He muttered to himself.

"Don't curse." Frank responded automatically, scratching some notes on a pocket pad.

"Really?" Joe huffed, "Four kids are dead at the hand of another kid and it's starting to sound like for no reason other than the color of their skin and you're concerned about if I'm taking the lords name? You gotta get serious, Dad."

"I am serious." Frank leveled.

"Whatever." Joe tapped on the window, "Why'd you even bring me?"

The seats creaked as Frank shifted, fidgeting his legs.

"Dad…?" Joe asked again.

"You have every right to be angry." Frank began carefully, "Even the most hard nosed detective is bound to be indignant and a little worked up about this case."

"Danny…" Joe sighed.

"Danny." Frank confirmed.

There was a beat of silence before he continued, "Look, your brother is a strong detective but he takes things to heart."

"And has a short fuse." Joe finished.

"Exactly." Frank sighed, "We're dealing with kids here. Dead kids which will light him up. But the perp is most likely a kid. That means parents on top of a ton of media." He looked at Joe, "You know what I'm saying?"

Joe scrubbed his hands down his face, "And what, exactly does this have to do with me?"

Frank was quiet, tapping his pad on his knee.

"Dad…" Joe asked again, "I'm not in his squad and I'm not a senior officer, I've got no sway."

"You're his brother." Frank replied simply.

"Doesn't mean much here." Joe's voice was muffled as he turned to the window, "This isn't family, this is the job and Danny doesn't respect me when it comes to the job. Dad, I swear I try but he's nothing but a hard ass."

"He respects you." Frank's insistence held a note of bewilderment. "If he's a hard ass it's because he's your big brother and worries about you but trust me Joe, you're a good cop and Danny knows it."

"Phfpt." Joe breathed out, "He's got a funny way of showing it."

Frank shook his head, "Joe. Joe, listen to me. What you see as disrespect is just fear."

Joe turned to his father but remained silent.

"We all see it, Joe. You are smart and compassionate and quick and strong. Those are assets that any boss would want on their team. Options are going to start opening up for you and there are a lot of dangerous jobs in the NYPD. If Danny pushes you it's because he wants to keep you on your toes because he worries."

"Do you?" Joe shot back.

Frank smiled, "Of course I do. I worry for the both of you. Every time you walk out my door, every time I hang up the phone with you, every time your name is in a report that crossed my desk. I've been doing this job too long to not fear for everyone who wears a uniform."

Joe sighed, "But _you_ don't act like a jerk about it."

Frank released a short laugh, "I'm mature enough to know that nothing I say could change the kind of cop you choose to be."

"Probably not." Joe agreed.

Frank smiled at his son, "Plus, I'm the Police Commissioner I couldn't do my job very well if I let my fears take over."

"Right…" Joe acknowledged quietly.

"And…" Frank continued, " _Because_ I'm the PC I am also prevented from hassling the lead detective on a very public case about watching his temper and minding the boundaries."

"So you want his kid brother to keep tabs on him?" Joe clarified.

"Something like that." Frank shifted again, "He's going to need to vent. He's working on keeping it level at home so he won't say anything to Linda, and if I keep calling he'll just toss his phone in the Hudson. So, you'll be there now, and it won't be a pretty scene but it will give you a common ground to talk. Take him out for a beer after tour and talk. Let him know he has someone who understands to whom he can vent."

"I can do that."

Frank's mouth drew into a tight lipped smile as he regarded his son, "Thank you."

They were quiet for a couple of blocks while Joe's fingers drew in the condensation on the window

At one point he looked to his Dad, "Have you talked to him about the Marines?"

Frank looked down, a short nod, "A little."

"And that's helped?"

Frank shrugged, "I don't know." He looked at his son, "I hope so." He sat back, "I know your grandfather's talked to him about coming home from Korea too." He sighed, "But those were different times. It wasn't automatically a bad thing to get angry or a little extra aggressive with a perp back then. Now…" He shrugged, "It's just different. So there's only so much I can offer him."

Joe nodded thoughtfully, "But he's talking? To you? and to Gramps?"

"A little." Frank sighed, "And now, hopefully, he'll talk to you. And, between the three of us…" He wound his hands together, "Hopefully it's enough."

"Okay." Joe nodded resolutely and Frank smiled affectionately back.

"Here." Jim pulled the suv to a stop outside of the crime scene tape holding back the crowd that had gathered.

The four of them stepped out of the vehicle and climbed the front steps. They had to wait at the front door as a two medics from the MEs office pushed gurney carrying a body bag out the building. A middle aged woman waited at the ambulance crying hysterically and having to be restrained by two teenage boys, also crying.

Abbey took a deep breath, blinked and turned to follow the PC into the school.

Members of the Crime Scene Unit moved around the main hall where blood was pooled on the floor and sprayed the wall murals. Three teens sat against one wall, crying and holding various injuries as paramedics tended to them. Another two teens lay motionless near the lockers while their pictures were taken and body bags prepared.

Abbey felt her breath shudder and she clenched her teeth, forcing her eyes to lock onto and focus on the white NYPD letters on the back of the Commissioner's jacket. She was so focused she almost ran into him when they came to a full stop.

"Commissioner." Jake Farrell, Danny's partner, greeted.

"Detectives." Frank returned.

Danny nodded a greeting but his forehead knitted together at he caught site of Joe. "Bud, What are you doing here?"

"He was with me." Frank replied shortly.

Danny glanced at Frank with an obvious look of incredulity.

"Jamie's graduation." Joe offered by way of explanation. "I need to get up to Inwood this afternoon so I hitched a ride this far."

Danny nodded absently, no longer interested, instead turning around a computer monitor for the Commissioner to see. "You heard about the threats?"

Frank nodded.

"First glance they seem to be legit." Farrell explained, "Style, tone and key words are all consistent with young, white supremacist propaganda."

"I'm sensing a 'but' here." Frank observed.

Danny nodded, "But, there are reports that the shooter definitely targeted one of the deceased."

"It's possible the notes and other victims are distractions to attempt and mask the real motive and identity." Farrell continued.

"The one who was targeted, one Malcolm Chardo, recently transferred in from a school in the Bronx." Danny read from his notepad.

"So you're starting there?" Frank questioned.

"Yes, sir." Danny confirmed.

Frank nodded, "Of course you both know the media is going to be all over this. My office will do what we can to get them off your backs and tone down the racial rhetoric but expect pressure from the DAs and the brass until you have a suspect in custody."

"Great." Danny grumbled.

Frank continued, "I will do my best to stay out of your way but I want my office to be directly informed of any major developments. Too many interpretations and innuendo gets tacked on along the chain. Anything big I want Detective Baker to be hearing directly from one of you two, okay?"

"Yes, Sir." Farrell nodded.

"In the meantime let me know what resources you needed. We'll give your CO the authority to approve extra overtime but it will be his prerogative. If you want to release information to or use the press at all do it through the DCPI and he'll get it to the right outlets." Frank squared his shoulders and looked at the two detectives, "This will not be an easy one, but I have faith in the both of you."

"Yes, Sir."

"Thank you, Sir."

Frank glanced at Joe, "You good from here?"

"I'm all set, Thanks." Joe put up a hand.

"Thank you." Frank gave grim nod, looking over the detectives one last time before turning on his heel and moving back through the hall.

Abbey kept her eyes forward, trying to ignore the sound of another gurney being wheeled behind them and the cries of the people on the sidewalk as they made their way back to the PC's vehicle.

As soon as they were in the car Frank pulled out his phone and made a quick dial.

He smirked at whomever picked up, "I know, but I wanted to check in with you, _not_ as the PC."

There was a pause, "You've never had a case with this kind of profile before."

Another pause, "I do, completely, but that's not the point. Look, when I said that we'll approve more overtime, don't feel like this needs to be solved in one tour. Okay? Make sure you get home before Linda puts the kids in bed tonight. Trust me, after a crime scene like today there's nothing better than coming home to your smiling kid."

Another short pause.

"Alright." Frank nodded and hung up the phone, sighing deeply as he buried it back in his pocket and leaning back against the seat.

"Baker," He called, "Do me a favor? Turn up the scanner."

She nodded and turned up the volume on the scanner and they drove back to 1PP with routine reports of traffic stops and 10-63 calls filling the silence.

* * *

Abbey sat at her desk, staring at her keyboard, unable to remember what she was about to do next.

Her mind just kept jumping back to the blood on the murals created by students at the school. Her teeth clenched and she swallowed.

The door opened, breaking her from the mental distraction and she looked up but it must have been a beat too late because by the time she made eye contact the Commissioner was looking at her with an attentive gaze.

She tried to muster a smile, "Sir?"

He didn't smile back, lips pursing, "You okay?"

She nodded, "Yes, sir."

He tilted his head, "Did you not hear me buzz?"

Her eyes widened and she glance to the interoffice speaker, "Um, no sir, I'm sorry, I..." She sighed and looked back, "What can I get for you?"

He put his hands in his pockets, "Don't worry about it."

She blinked, "Sir...?"

He stared back at her, "Rough crime scene this morning."

The words were quiet, and said flatly without insinuation; still she felt the blush rise on her neck and she looked down.

He waited silently and she finally relented, feeling her whole frame deflate as she exhaled.

"They were so young..." She muttered.

He nodded in solemn agreement. "Far too young."

She looked up at him, feeling the water in her eyes. "I know..." She sighed, "I just..." She gave her head a shake, "How do you do it?"

He took a deep breath in and released it in a long, heavy sigh. "Somedays..." He started slowly, "You just have to turn 'em off."

She kept her eyes locked on him, waiting for something more. When none came she released a huff of disbelief.

"Easier said than done."

He gave her a sad smile and nodded, "Yes."

She looked at her desk for a beat and then back up to him, "And you sir? Are you okay?"

He grimaced and nodded slowly, seriously, "I will be."

Her eyes traced his face, taking in the lines and creases. He used to have dimples, she tried to remember when she last saw them but they seemed to have blended into the stress he wore.

"With all due respect sir," She started hesitantly, "While you spend the day looking after everyone else who do you have looking after..."

There were steps on the stairs and he held up a finger, "Hold that thought for just one minute."

He turned just in time to greet Garrett's arrival. "All quiet on the 14th?" He asked.

"For now." Frank confirmed.

The DCPI nodded, looking over him and then over Baker, "Good." He looked to Frank, "Long day."

Frank nodded, "Yes it was."

Garrett gave an exaggerated looked at his watch, "I've done all I can for the day but my wife is at her niece's recital until after 9. I don't feel up to facing an empty house." He smirked at Frank, "Save me from drinking alone?"

Frank tossed a quick wink to Abbey. Garrett tilted his head, looking between the two only to be greeted by amused looks.

"What?" Garrett's forehead wrinkled.

Frank gave a small shake of his head, looking to Baker, "We good here?"

She nodded, smiling in understanding, "Yes, sir."

"Okay." He patted his pockets, confirming the location of his glasses. "Let's go." He nodded to Garrett. He waited for the other man to step away before offering a last concerned look at Abbey.

"Until tomorrow, Abigail."

She smiled softly in return.

"Have a good night, Commissioner Reagan."


	13. Repose

Abbey rubbed at her eyes, the words on the paper were beginning to blur.

She sat back in her chair and glanced at the time with a sigh, 5:57am.

The Commissioner had gone to the secure situation room 82 minutes ago and the lack of updates was leaving her uneasy and restless.

She'd had a pit in her stomach since Monday afternoon when she picked up the phone and it was the US Secretary of State on the line; 3 days later the tension had spread to every muscle in her body.

Finally giving up on the memo in front of her she stood and moved through the double glass doors to the empty Commissioner's office.

She walked up to the window she had seen him gaze out countless times before. Hints of sunrise were just creeping in, reflecting off the glass windows and facades of the financial district.

She looked to the right, knowing that 7 years ago one would have been able to see the Twin Towers from this window.

Her heart sped up and she looked away, her eyes traveling around the empty office, landing on the stacks of paper and folders covering the coffee table.

She sighed and sat in the arm chair and began to sort through and organize the mess.

-Tan folders from engineering with reports of blast radius and fall out zones went in one pile.

-Blue files from ILP containing profiles of 6 militant Palestinian activists were stacked in the next pile.

-Transcripts of translated emails and phone taps went in a pile with other memos from Homeland Security.

-JTTF documents highlighting landmarks, places of interest and potential timelines went into a 4th pile.

Underneath a map of the city was the Commissioner's personal notepad, " _April-9-08 11am_ " underlined and circled in Frank Reagan's heavy pen glared up from the top of the page.

She checked her watch again, 6:42am.

Releasing a long exhale she focused on folding the map and checking to make sure the coffee in the carafe was still hot.

She had just finished pouring herself a cup when the Commissioner walked in to the room.

He paused, hand still on the knob as he glanced over her and took in the organization of the materials, "Thank you." He nodded, letting the door shut as he moved to his desk.

She stood, uneasily shifting her weight, "Sir?"

He nodded again, "It's over."

He reached two fingers behind his tie and popped open his collar button as he lowered into his chair. He closed his eyes for a long beat, taking in a deep breath and slowly releasing it.

Wordlessly, Abbey placed a cup of coffee on the desk, watching him carefully.

When he opened his eyes the exhaustion of three sleepless nights was evident on his face but he gave her a small, genuine smile as he noticed the coffee.

He sipped it gratefully. "Thank you, Baker."

"Looked like you needed it." She observed dryly.

His eyebrows bounced in amused acceptance but he shook his head, "That's true, but I meant the last few days. It's been a rough week and your work, even the little things," he gestured to the cleaned up table, "Made a difference."

She gave a small nod, "Just doing my job."

"And doing it well, as always." He leanined his head back, eyes closing again.

"Sir?" She stepped forward, hesitating at the edge of the desk.

He blinked and sat forward, propping his elbows on the desktop and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"4 of the guys are alive and are now federal prisoners." He looked up at her, "The FBI or CIA will be by to ask you to sign a non-disclosure once they're done wrangling jurisdiction. Once that's happened you can head home."

Abbey's brow furrowed, "Sir?"

He shrugged, "I'd say you've put in more than enough OT for a week. Go home, get some sleep, see if that fiancé of yours can get tomorrow off too." He glanced out the window, "Take the time."

"What about you, sir?" She crossed her arms and tilted her head.

He raised a wry eyebrow, "Oh, I'm sure I'll figure out how to muddle on with out you for a couple of days."

She narrowed her eyes, "That's not exactly what I meant."

He looked up and then glanced away, nodding, "I know." He sighed, "And I appreciate it." He shifted some paper, "But it doesn't change what needs to be done to wrap up this and I still have that list from Monday that we barely cracked."

Her eyes watched him pull out the bureau reviews she had compiled for him at the start of the week.

She gave a shake of her head, "I'll stay."

"You will not." He frowned, "In an hour the administrative team will be in and they can deal with the sundry crap; everything else can wait until Monday."

She pursed her lips tightly and didn't move.

He sighed, relaxing his shoulders, "You're one of the few people who knows how close half of Brooklyn just came to becoming a crater. Go. Be with Brian. Appreciate what didn't happen."

She set her jaw, teeth squeezing the inside of her lip. She glanced to the pictures of the Commissioner's own family on the shelves behind him. "You'll go home early today?"

He gave a short nod, "That's the goal."

"Okay." She agreed haltingly. "Please call me back in if something comes up."

"Of course." He returned levelly.

She turned to leave, but paused at the door, "Commissioner,"

He looked up over the rims of his glasses.

She looked out the window where the morning sun was now shining brightly and straightened, returning her attention to her boss. "I _am_ one of the few people who knows that we did come very close to something terrible today...but I'm also one of the few people who knows that it's not going to happen because of you. So on behalf of the 8.5 million people who don't know any better, _thank you._ "

Frank blinked, looked down, swallowed and looked back up.

"Have a good day, Baker."

"Yes, Sir." She smiled softly back, exiting.

* * *

Midday on Friday Abbey was stretched across Brian, half dozing and half reading when her phone rang.

"Baker." She answered automatically.

A familiar female voice greeted, "Detective Baker?"

"Erin?" Baker blinked, mind racing.

"Yes. Sorry to bother you, I know you have the day off."

"Not a problem." She pushed herself up, "Is everything okay?"

"Well…" Erin drawled, "I think you're better informed than myself about that." The tinge of amusement in her voice settled the initial concern that had struck Abbey's imagination.

"Pardon?" Abbey questioned.

"Just that last night Dad forgot the dinner plans we had, and instead, according to Grampa, he went home for the first time all week and fell asleep at the kitchen table before 6pm."

Abbey had to stifle a chuckle at the image that brought to mind.

"That kind of behavior throws up a few red flags in the Reagan family." Erin concluded.

"I couldn't tell you what to attribute that too other than the Commissioner put in a long few days at the office." Abbey forced herself into a straight face.

"Yes, well." Erin's voice was dry, "Now, for some reason he's being all warm and fuzzy and wants to have a little gathering."

"What?" Abbey's tilted her head and furrowed her brow.

"Back when Dad was running Brooklyn South, once a year Mom would turn our Sunday dinner into a cookout as a thank you for folks who worked with Dad." Erin explained, "We haven't done it in a few years but he just called to tell me that he wants to throw one together for this weekend."

Abbey nodded, "Okay…"

Erin sighed, "So I'm starting with you, would you be interested in joining us around 1pm at Owl Head Park in Bay Ridge?"

Abbey blinked, and looked to Brian, "Umm…."

"He made very clear to say that this was not an order." Erin, interrupted, "Purely an invitation."

"Of course." Abbey pulled herself to focus, "You just caught me off guard. Absolutely, of course."

She smirked at Brian's befuddlement as he tried to follow her side of the conversation, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Well," Erin's tone was businesslike, "I started with you so you can tell me if I'm on the right track with the rest of the list," There was a pause and a ruffle of papers, "I have you and the folks from the detail, the DCPI and the Chief of Department as well as the Chief of Ds each of the Bureau Chiefs, the head of OCCB, some guy named Jacobs from JTTF, McCarthy from the Anti-terrorism Unit and Matthews from TARU. Obviously families for all those folks included."

Abbey nodded, mentally ticking off the NYPD personnel involved over the incident earlier in the week. "DeMarro from Anti-Terror should also be on the list. He doesn't work out of 1PP but the Commissioner would want him to get an invite."

"Great, Thanks." Abbey could hear Erin writing. "Anyone else?"

Abbey took a second to think, "I think that you have most covered. Anything we can bring?"

"Not unless you have a specialty side." Erin replied, "All the drinks will be taken care of as well as a few options for the main course; Grampa and Linda are at the butcher right now."

Abbey smiled, "Okay, great. Sunday at 1pm, Owl Head Park."

She was about to hang up when she realized, "Erin!"

"Yes?"

"Tell the Commissioner to not forget to have Greenberg push through an event permit."

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" Brian squinted at the crowd gathered at the far side of the park.

Abbey hooked his elbow, "Of course I am."

Brian still held back, "It's going to be a bunch of cops, I won't know what to say."

"First of all," Abbey stared him down, hands on her hips, "You don't seem to have any problem making conversation with me, second of all, it won't just be cops - there will be wives and husbands and children."

He just sighed.

She tugged on his sleeve, "They are all really good people, you'll be fine, I promise." She looked over her shoulder, "But if you aren't just let me know and we don't need to stay long."

Brian nodded, "Yeah, I get it, it's just a little intimidating."

"I understand." Abbey nodded, "I really do." She smiled softly, "Just ignore the Commissioner. No one else is intimidating at all, really."

Naturally, the first person to greet them as they arrived at the gathering was the Commissioner himself.

"Baker!" He excused himself from conversation with Chief Bell. "Glad you could make it." He put his hands in his pockets and grinned.

It was such a natural, open grin that it made her draw up short.

"Um, yes, of course Sir." She stammered, uncomfortable with the unusual casual atmosphere, "Wouldn't have missed it." She smiled and turned to Brian, "This is…"

Frank's removed his hands from his pockets and straightened to his full height, "Brian, right? About time we meet in person."

Brian's eyes widened, "Um, yes, sir."

Frank stepped forward, eyes narrowing, "Tax attorney, right?"

Brian swallowed and nodded, "Yes, sir."

Frank waited a protracted moment, eyes piercing before he smiled and held out a hand, "Pleasure to meet you finally, I've heard nothing but good things."

Brian accepted the handshake and released a nervous breath, "Likewise, of course."

Frank looked to Abbey, "Pretty clean background check too, you know."

Brian gaped but she rolled her eyes, patting her fiancé's arm, "He didn't _really_ do a back ground check." She paused and looked back at the Commissioner, "Right?"

Frank shrugged innocently.

Abbey's eyes narrowed, "He didn't…" she repeated, though tone belied her lack of confidence.

Frank just grinned, ignoring the question and gesturing to the tables and coolers, "Please, eat up and drink up, Pops and I don't want to be stuck with any leftovers."

"Yes sir, thank you." She smiled and gently steered Brian away.

"Do you think…" Brian kept glancing over his shoulder as the Commissioner greeted others to the informal gathering.

"No…" Abbey shook her head, "I mean, possible...but no..." She glanced back at the Commissioner and shook it off, "Doesn't matter, you okay?"

Brian smiled, "I'm good."

Abbey placed a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Ahhhh this must be the lucky guy." A lighthearted voice interrupted the moment.

Abbey turned to see Joe Reagan grinning at them. "Detective." She greeted.

"Detective Abbey." He returned, extending a hand to Brian, "Joe Reagan."

"Nice to meet you. Brian Delucia." Brian returned the handshake. He thumbed over his shoulder to the commissioner, "Related I assume?"

Joe's smiled faded, "Yeah."

Abbey's eyebrows rose at Joe's change in tone but he ignored her, keeping his attention on Brian, "But don't worry about it, I'm the fun one."

Abbey grinned, "I don't think I can argue with that."

"Excellent!" Joe fist pumped, "Seriously though, don't worry about him. He can't scare his kids anymore so he likes messing with new people. As long as Baker here vouches for you you're okay in all our books."

He tossed a wink to Abbey.

"Thank you Joe." She gave him a small nod, the blush heating up the back of her neck.

"Good to know I've got the right endorsement." Brian grinned.

"You absolutely do." Joe nodded, "Now, if you excuse me, I have my own business with the man in question." He smiled at Abbey and shook Brian's hand one last time before walking over to his father.

Abbey watched him go, carrying the stance of a man on a mission as the Commissioner seemed to brace for impact.

"Abs?" Brian pulled her attention, "You hungry?"

She blinked back to him and smiled, "Yes, of course, let's go sit."

* * *

Two hours later Abbey was chatting happily with Garrett as Brian was engrossed in a conversation with Jamie Reagan.

The Commissioner walked by and tilted his head to Garrett.

Garrett raised his eyebrows, "Well I guess that's my cue."

"Some day off." Abbey grinned.

"You're telling me." Garrett smirked.

Abbey sipped on her beer watching as Garrett hustled over to the Commissioner and the two walked away from the gathering, heads bent and speaking in low tones.

Abbey looked up as someone slid in to the seat just vacated by Garrett.

"Rachel." Abbey offered a careful smile to the woman from the Chief of Detective's office.

Rachel Stofey was very friendly but also a bit of a gossip hound which automatically made Abbey wary.

"This is so nice, don't you think?" Rachel started, smile wide as she gestured to the colleagues milling around the park. "Especially after the stress of last week this is just what everyone needed."

Abbey took the moment to look around. Indeed, there were people she worked with every day for the past four years whom she had never seen out of uniform or even smile. And yet today here they were in polos and flannels, smiling and joking.

She had to relent, "You're right."

"I heard that you're the one who suggested it to the Commissioner." Rachel leaned in.

Abbey shook her head, "I absolutely had nothing to do with it. It was all the Reagans. The Commissioner came up with the idea and the rest of the family executed it."

"Well," Rachel sat back, "Isn't he just full of surprises?"

Abbey shrugged, uncertain how to respond.

Rachel glanced around and then leaned back in to Abbey, voice lowered.

"I need you need to help me out with a little inside scoop."

Abbey put on her best blank face, "I'm not sure if I can…"

"Oh don't worry," Rachel smiled comfortingly, "I'm not talking about state secrets." She eyes shifted, "I'm just curious, is Reagan seeing anyone?"

Abbey blinked. And blinked again.

"Which one?" She asked, dumbfounded.

Rachel broke into a light laugh, "Oh come on."

Abbey's head tilted, legitimately confused and surprised, "The Commissioner? Rachel, he _just_ lost his wife."

Rachel sat back eyebrows arched, "Abbey, dear, it's been nearly 3 years."

Abbey reeled a moment.

Of course...Mary died while they were still in the Chief of Department's office…but it still felt so recent….

Rachel tilted her head, "Don't be naïve. I've known Frank Reagan a long time and I know that Mary was his one true love, but I also know that when he was a young man he was the biggest flirt on the force. Plus, a man has needs and three years is a _long_ time to go unfulfilled."

Abbey felt her jaw slacken.

She quickly composed herself, "I'm sorry...I really wouldn't know. I don't keep his personal calendar."

Abbey looked over Rachel's shoulder to where the Commissioner and Garrett had returned and stood with Garrett's wife, Deputy Chief Arbogast and his wife. The five of them were laughing at something, wide, honest smiles on each of their faces.

Again, Abbey felt panged by the rarity of the scene.

She returned eye contact with Rachel who had followed her gaze, "It just isn't right for a man that handsome to be lonely. Am I right?"

Abbey coughed, unable to adequately come up with a response.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Rachel patted Abbey's hand, "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable." She shrugged, drawing back, "I just wanted a little inside information before I made a gamble."

Abbey tried to paste on a smile through her grimace, "I'm just sorry I'm of no help."

"Alright." Rachel nodded, still smiling sweetly, "I think I might test the waters anyway. Carpe Diem, right?"

Wide-eyed Abbey watched the older woman sashay over to the gathering with the Commissioner. She said something which got the group laughing again and she flashed an intentional smile at her target. If possible Abbey's eyes got wider as the Commissioner seemed to read Rachel's intentions in her body language, and his eyes gave a barely concealed, appreciative sweep.

Okay, so maybe Rachel's had some valid observations but it certainly wasn't something that Abbey wanted to be privy too.

She shook her head and stood, moving to the coolers to get another beer.

"Well, no _duh_ he didn't want to discuss it. What were you _thinking_?" Danny Reagan's voice came from the other side of the table.

She looked up to see him squaring off with Joe.

"What was I thinking?" Joe rolled his eyes, "I was thinking that I can do it. That I'm ready for it and I want to do it."

"Warrant squad? Really?" Danny was shaking his head, "Why? You're already 2nd grade detective, there's so much you can do with that!"

"Look, your highest aspiration maybe major cases squad but I don't know." Joe glanced across the park, "I go visit Dad at 1PP and I like what I see."

"So…you want to do Warrants so you can be commissioner?" Danny squinted in disbelief, "You gotta help me out here, Bud, because that makes no sense."

Joe huffed, "No, not that. But maybe Chief of something...someday. Be in a position to be involved in the big picture stuff."

"So what's that gotta do with busting down doors?" Danny crossed his arms over his chest.

"It's something different." Joe shrugged. "Look, both Dad and Grampa held positions in all kinds of bureaus; patrol, detective, canine, vice, narcotics….having experience in all that made them better bosses." He shifted, "If I have high aspirations I need to build more variety into my experience."

Danny sighed, nodding slowly, looking away, "Yeah, but warrants is one of the toughest beats there is. You really think _that_ is where you want to get your experience?"

"Maybe…" Joe looked away, "I want to prove I can."

"What's that even mean?" Danny shook his head.

"Just…" Joe gesticulated, "You're the tough one and I'm the goofy one." He bit his lip, "You're the marine, the old school guy who kicks down doors and gets the perp. And I'm the one sitting in the station, flirting with the female POs and figuring out patterns in bank statements."

"So?" Danny gestured, "Everyone loves that guy! That guy never gets in trouble! That guy is a good guy to be!"

"Well I don't want to _just_ be that guy Danny." Joe bit his lip, realizing he was on the verge of yelling. "I told Dad I wanted to look into joining the warrant squad and he starts going on about how dangerous it is. As if I'm made of straw or something. I'm a cop, if I didn't expect some danger I would have done something else with my life. I'm not some weakling needing to be protected."

Danny frowned, "I know that, Bud."

"Does _he_?" Joe pushed back, "Does Grampa? Or am I just Joe-Go-Lucky who can't be handling any scary jobs? 'Better leave those for Danny and the other real cops.'"

Danny released a breath and shook his head, "Damnit, Joe. That's not it. You know that."

"I'm not sure I do." Joe held his brother's gaze for a long moment before stalking away, shaking his head.

Danny sighed and ran a hand through his hair while taking a long drink from his beer.

He looked over, noticing Abbey for the first time.

"You catch all that?" He asked.

She winced, "Enough of it." She gestured to her own drink, "I'm sorry."

Danny shook his head, "Don't worry about it, if it were meant to be private we'd know better than to argue in a park full of detectives."

Abbey smiled and flicked her bottle top into the trash.

"So what do you think?" Danny asked casually.

"Me?" Abbey stared back.

Danny shrugged, "Yeah. In some ways you know Dad as well as if not better than the rest of us. What do you think?"

Abbey sighed, "I think that the warrants squad has the highest on the job injury incidents and I think that once a man has earned a shield he has the right to make decisions for himself."

She winced and glanced across the field, "I think that your Dad really loves each member of his family but I _also_ think that people need to stop assuming that I have any clue what goes on in his mind when it comes to any particular issue."

Danny sighed and nodded, "Right. Sorry. Thank you Detective."

"Any time Reagan." She tipped her beer in mock salute and returned to Brian and Jamie.

As the two men sparred Yankees versus Mets Abbey let her eyes roam, cataloguing everyone.

Most of 1PP was there in small pockets of people, smiling and enjoying one another.

Danny Reagan was smiling, holding his youngest like an airplane as his wife and sister managed the hotdogs for Jack and Nicky.

The Commissioner and Garrett hadn't moved from their circle of conversation but now Rachel was touching the Commissioner's forearm each time he said something amusing. Abbey quickly looked away, not at all interested in thinking too deeply about whatever _that_ was.

Joe sat with his grandfather by the basketball courts. They were in deep conversation and Abbey could guess the topic.

She grimaced, she believed what she had told Danny, that a man with a shield was a man who could make his own choices in life...but something deep in her gut began to twist.


	14. Yuletide

"Will that be all?" Abbey began shuffling the files back together.

The Commissioner raised his eyebrows, "Are we in a rush Baker?"

She froze, "No sir, sorry sir, not at all."

"Relax," He smiled gently removing his glasses and sticking them in his vest pocket, "I'm looking to get out of here soon too."

She gave a conciliatory smile and relaxed her shoulders, "Brian and I are taking his nephew to the tree lighting at Rockefeller tonight." She explained. "I said I'd try to meet them at the train."

Frank smiled broadly, "We're taking Nicky and the boys tonight too. Use your courtesy card and come join us up front; I put in a call to the fellas at the 17th."

Abbey raised an eyebrow, "A personal favor? That's rare."

He shrugged, "So is me voluntarily attending one of these midtown tourist events..." He looked up with a grin "But all bets are off when it comes to the grandkids."

She smiled in return, "Of course." She shuffled the folders in her arms, "I'll just go wrap this up."

Frank nodded, "Good. Thanks."

She exited the office, closing the door behind her but she startled when she looked up to see Joe Reagan standing at her desk.

"Oh, I'm sorry..." She moved to open the door again but Joe waived a hand, stalling her.

Her brow furrowed but she removed her hand from the door.

He didn't say anything else and she kept her eyes on him as she walked around and placed the files on the desk.

His hair was uncombed, his bangs flopping over his forehead and he had several days worth of uneven stubble on his strong jaw which was clenched and devoid of his usual smile. His eyes roamed, not focusing on any single point and he fidgeted; his stance shifting and his fingers playing with a small, shiny blue lapel pin of some kind.

"Detective?" She frowned.

A flicker of a smile appeared on his face, disappearing just as fast, "Can you do me a favor?" His words were hushed, and he glanced at the closed doors to the Commissioner's office.

She took a deep breath, "You know that it depends on what the favor is."

"Can you..." He swallowed, "Well, first, don't tell the PC that I'm asking this..."

She crossed her arms, waiting.

He sighed, "I just need to know..." He glanced around and leaned in close, "Has the FBI met with the Commissioner at all recently?"

Abbey's eyes got wide and she too glanced back and forth to ensure their words would not be overheard, "Joe! What's going on?"

He held up a placating hand, "Look, I promise I'm not in trouble. I'm just..." He sighed, centering himself, "It's something I need to know."

"Joe..." Abbey shook her head, glancing at the closed doors of the Commissioner's office, "First of all, you know something like that isn't something I could tell you. Secondly, if I could, you would have to be a lot more specific as it isn't exactly uncommon for the Commissioner to meet with people across all the different law enforcement agencies."

Joe seemed to deflate, pursing his lips and looking down.

Abbey continued, "Finally, why aren't you asking him yourself?"

He sighed, looking around, "It's really not that big of a deal, I just..." He ran a hand through his hair, "I just didn't want to make waves." He shrugged, "I just figured that asking you could be quick and easy but bringing it up to him would turn it in to a big deal when it's really not." He forced a smile on his face, "It's really not."

She glanced down at the agenda book on her desk. She bit her lip and looked back up at Joe, "Alright." She sighed, "Let me put it this way, I'm not privy to every meeting the Commissioner has but he usually gets pretty cranky after dealing with the feds and he hasn't been cranky since before Thanksgiving."

Joe frowned.

"And _that_ was likely just because of the parade," Abbey explained, "Every national agency is involved with terrorist targets like the parade. So unless you're asking about a clandestine meeting about giant balloons..." She trailed off, watching him carefully.

Joe nodded stiffly, "Okay."

"You sure?" Abbey tilted her head, trying to make eye contact.

Joe lifted his head, a lighter smile in place, "Yeah. Of course. Thanks."

"Okay..." She cautiously let him off the hook. "Anything else I can do for you?"

He began to shake his head but then stopped, looking as if he had just had a realization, "When did you join the department?"

Her eyebrows rose, caught off guard by the question, "I graduated the academy June of 2000."

He nodded slowly, "And you were Manhattan South?"

"For patrol." She elaborated, "I moved to Brooklyn North when I made Detective the end of 2003."

"Really..." Joe regarded her thoughtfully.

"Yes, really." She confirmed, "Why?"

He was quiet for a moment, hands still fidgeting with whatever he had in his hand. "You ever hear of the Blue Templar?" He asked with a casual tilt of his head.

Abbey nodded, "Yes..."

"You have?" His eyes lit up and he stepped closer.

"Yeah." She smiled, "But not at the precinct; I heard about them here."

Joe's face fell, "Here?" He repeated lowly.

"Yeah..." Abbey nodded again, "Your father did a review of them and a few other groups. It wrapped up back in..." She squinted a moment, "January or February of last year." She looked at him, confused, "Why?"

Joe lips were pursed tightly. "He reviewed the Blue Templar almost 2 years ago?" He spelled out slowly.

Abbey nodded, "Yes."

"And what did he find?" Joe tilted his head casually but Abbey could see the tension in his shoulders as every muscle was taught.

She shook her head, "Nothing really."

Joes face fell.

She leaned in, "What's this about? From what I heard it seems like it's just a bunch of guys who like to get drunk and cut loose a little."

Joe swallowed, nodding slowly. "Yeah, okay...you're right, it's nothing." But even as he spoke he glanced to the Commissioner's closed door. When he looked back at Abbey his shoulders stooped and his eyes sad, as if his world was shattered.

She reached out a hand to rest on his clenched forearm, "Joe, I can tell it's not nothing."

He looked back at her silently and she sighed, "Look, why don't you talk to your brother about this?"

"My brother?" He repeated.

She nodded, "Yeah, didn't Danny used to be involved with the Blue Templar?"

He closed his eyes for a long moment. "I didn't know that..." He muttered quietly when he looked back at her.

She tried to smile comfortingly, "Well maybe he has some of the information you're looking for?"

Joe swallowed, looking down, "Yeah..."

She frowned and furrowed her brow but her words were interrupted by the door to the Commissioner's office opening.

Joe immediately stepped back from her. It took a moment for the Commissioner to even notice him as he was shrugging into his overcoat.

"Alright, Baker, let's call it for the night..." He looked up, "Joesph!" He stopped in his tracks, smiling, "I didn't know you were coming. Are you riding over with me?"

Joe shook his head, "Umm no..." He shifted his feet, eyes not meeting his father's.

Frank's eyes narrowed and the smile faded from his face, "Son? What's up?"

Joe shook his head, pulling up a smile, "Nothing, really."

"We can head in and talk." Frank indicated his closed office, "Catch up with everyone when we're done?"

"No, really Dad, it's nothing." He held up a hand, "Just thinking about Christmas presents, but I forgot you had the thing tonight." He smiled stiffly. "We can talk later. It's not worth you being late."

Frank pierced Joe with a long contemplative look. Finally he gave a short nod, "Okay. Can I convince you to come with?"

Joe shook his head, "I've got a thing." He gestured over his shoulder, "Maybe I'll catch up later."

"More OT for the squad?" Frank asked, eyes darkening.

Joe shook his head, "Nah. Just a thing with Sonny and some of the guys."

"Okay..." Frank pursed his lips pensively, "I'll walk you out?"

Joe nodded tossing a wave to Abbey as he turned away, "Thanks Detective."

The Commissioner paused for a moment and then also glanced at Abbey, "Alright, we're out. See you out there?"

Abbey smiled, "Maybe sir, we'll see what the crowd is like when we get there."

"Alright." He grinned, "Good luck!"

* * *

"Well we planned this poorly..." Brian lamented to Abbey as they surveyed the crowd spilling out of Rockefeller Plaza.

"Uncle Brian?" 4 year old Jason tugged on his uncle's jacket, "Are we going to be able to see the tree?"

Brian grimaced, "Yeah, Buddy. We're going to figure it out."

Abbey released a heavy sigh and she glanced around the crowd. They had been foolish thinking they could get here this late and have a decent view.

"Okay." She murmured, reaching for her wallet and scanning for anyone in uniform. She glanced to Brian, "Follow me."

They moved down 49th coming up to a young PO from the 17th. She flashed her Office of the Commissioner courtesy card, "Hi, we're supposed to meet the Commissioner around here, can you help?"

The officer's eyes went wide looking at the card and nodded respectfully, "Yes Ma'am, go in that door right down there."

"Thank you." She smiled her appreciation and headed to the door he indicated.

Brian grabbed her hand, "Um, what _exactly_ are we doing?"

She smiled sweetly back, "The Commissioner is bringing his grandchildren down and apparently has a good space with a view of the tree."

Brian swallowed, "I don't know about this."

She smiled, "Oh relax. We aren't just showing up, he invited. I just wanted to leave it as a last resort in case it was awkward, but I think that we're not left with many more options." She indicated Jason's hopeful, wide eyes.

Brian glanced at his nephew before nodding, "Okay..." and they entered the side door of Rockefeller Center.

An officer stopped them, "Hi," She greeted, again reaching for her card but the officer spoke before she had the chance.

"You're Detective Baker." He smiled.

She froze, looking up.

"From the Commissioner's squad?" The officer clarified.

She nodded slowly, "Yes..."

"I'm sorry," He smiled reaching out offering a hand shake, "Mike Kenney. You were with the Commissioner at the Union meeting last month."

She shook his hand, "Yes, I was. Pleasure to meet you, officer."

He grinned, "The Commissioner is right out that way." He gestured back to the front entrance of the building, "Enjoy your night."

"Thank you, you too." She nodded, flashing a cocky smile to Brian.

"Uncle Brian?" Jason looked up, "Is Abbey famous?"

Brian winked at Abbey, "She sure is, bud."

Abbey rolled her eyes but knew her cheeks were blushing as they walked out the door and back into the evening.

Whatever retort she had paused on her lips as she took in the scene.

They had exited only feet behind the massive 70 foot tree. Lights and holiday decorations were all around them. The stage was to their right with newscasters, Rockettes and some pop star she knew she should recognize was singing Feliz Navidad.

Thousands of people spread out from three sides around the buildings and ice skating rink but at the front of the crowd on the left was the majority of the Reagan family; Danny, Linda and the boys, Erin and Nicky, Jamie and of course the Commissioner.

All eight wore similar grins, watching the festivities.

She grabbed Brian's hand.

"Baker!" Frank noticed first and waved them over. "Glad you made it over."

She shrugged, "Thanks for the invitation. Getting here at 6:30 turned out to be a bad plan."

Erin laughed, "Oh yeah, we made that mistake before."

"This is MUCH better." Nicky nodded, grabbing the Commissioner's hand, "Thank you Grampa."

He grinned back at her, "Anything for you, kiddo."

He looked back up offering his free hand to Brian, "Good to see you again Brian." He looked down, "And who is this?"

Jason leaned against his uncle's legs but waved, "Jason."

"Well hello Jason," Frank smiled softly, "Are you excited to watch them light the tree?"

Jason nodded eagerly, "It's really big!"

Frank laughed, "Yes it is."

Abbey smiled, "Really, thank you sir."

"Nah." He shrugged off her thanks, "Got to have a little fun sometimes, right?"

"Is that an order?" She smiled, the energy of the place emboldening her.

He returned the smile, "It absolutely is."

* * *

By the time the Rockettes were wrapping up their routine Abbey was sipping hot cocoa with Erin and Linda grinning at the children and men.

Although an entertaining show, the long wait pushed the patience of the children and now Jason sat on Brian's shoulders, Jack on Danny's and Sean on Jamie's. Claiming that 12 was too old for shoulder rides (and backed by her mother), Nicky had eventually compromised and gleefully climbed up for a piggy back ride from her grandfather where she remained contentedly snuggled..

"I'm just saying," Linda grinned, dropping a spot of Irish whiskey into each of the hot chocolates, "I'm all for woman's lib, but I am not going to complain if the men want to carry the kids all night." She gestured to her sons, "Those little guys are getting to be not so little any more."

"I know it." Erin nodded, looking over. "I hope Dad knows he doesn't need to hold her all night; it'll kill his back."

"He loves it." Linda grinned.

Abbey nodded in agreement, "He's made it very clear on more than one occasion; ' _anything_ for the grandkids.'"

Erin rolled her eyes but smiled fondly, "I know."

"Where is the rest of the clan?" Abbey asked, not wanting to specifically point out the absence of Nicky's father.

"Ah, let me see," Linda counted out loud, "Pops' hip was acting up with the cold so he stayed home. Jamie's girlfriend, Sidney is with him. She still needs to pass the bar so she's taking advantage of a quiet house to study. Joe...Did Frank say Joe was supposed to be coming?"

She looked to Erin who nodded, "Yeah, maybe. He's been putting in a ton of time both on and off duty since he joined Warrants." She sighed, "And of course Jack is stuck on a case...again..." She muttered in to her cocoa.

Linda smiled sadly and ran a supportive hand up and down Erin's arm. "Come on, Let's go share these with the guys."

"Do we have to?" Erin joked.

Abbey grinned and followed them back closer to where the men and kids were watching the show.

"Where'd you go?" Brian question when she reappeared at his side.

She said nothing, just handed him her mug.

"Thanks." He smiled, taking a gulp and then coughing and blinking when he realized there was more than hot chocolate in it.

Danny released a bark of laughter, "Can't handle it tax-man?"

Frank joined in with some of his own laughter, "Baker, you need to warn someone when giving them Reagan Cocoa." He took a sip of his own and blinked rapidly, " _Especially_ when Linda prepares them." He shot a look to his daughter-in-law.

Linda just shrugged innocently, "I figured if we finished the bottle it's one last thing to carry."

"That's my wife." Danny grinned.

"Sorry, Babe." Abbey grinned at Brian.

He rolled his eyes, "I guess I just expected a family of cops to play it clean."

"Ha! If you think _that_ you should check out our Thanksgiving football game!" A familiar voice came from the side.

"UNCLE JOE!" Screamed Jack right in Danny's ear.

"COLE JOE!" Sean followed suit making Jamie also wince.

"Hey guys." He tussled each of their heads and tossed a wink to Nicky before noticing Abbey and Brian.

"Detective Abbey." He greeted, "Long time no see."

"Likewise, Detective." She smiled in return, noting the contrast from the stressed figure he had been at her desk only a few hours ago.

"Hey Dad." He gave a tight smile, and short eye contact which did not go unnoticed by Abbey but appeared to be dismissed by the Commissioner.

"Glad you made it, Son." Frank greeted with a smile.

Joe nodded, "Me too."

"Here." Jamie handed him his cocoa and everyone grinned as he took a sip and spluttered the heavily spiked drink.

"Yep, Christmas time with the Reagans..." he muttered.

Frank knocked him with his elbow and they shared a grin.

Abbey leaned against Brian and the group settled into a contented lull watching the dancers and listening to the music.

"Grampa?" Next to her, Nicky shifted in her Grandfather's arms, leaning forward over his shoulder. "Can I say something?"

"Of course you can, Sweety."

"You seem happy." She observed solemnly.

Abbey glanced over in time to see Frank's face scrunch in confusion, "Of course I'm happy."

Nicky sighed, "Yeah, but you aren't always. Just lately."

Her voice was wistful and he tilted his head back to try and see her more fully. "Nicky, sweetheart, what are you getting at?"

"Do you not miss Grandma anymore?"

Abbey blinked at the young girl's bluntness. She felt uncomfortable but couldn't resist watching out of the corner of her eye as Frank sighed deeply, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Honey, I miss your Grandmother every day." He replied slowly.

"So how can you be happy?" She pushed him.

"Nicky," His mouth flattened as he thought for a beat before began explaining slowly, "Part of life is accepting the bad things and moving on _with_ them. Of course I miss your grandmother, I always will. But I needed to learn to hold that alongside other feelings. I like to think she would want to see me happy."

Nicky pursed her lips tightly, squinting in memory, "She said she liked your smile."

Frank froze for a second and looked down. He swallowed and gave a small nod, "Yes...well..." He cleared his throat, "You know what I like?"

"What?"

"What your Grandmother and I made together." He looked down the line of his family, "I _was_ sad, for a long time. But when we are all together, this family reminds me of everything to be grateful for and happy about." He sighed, "Nothing makes me happier than seeing all my kids and _their_ kids together."

He smiled softly, "You know, I see her in everyone of you."

He shifted Nicky's weight, "Your Mom looks just like Grandma did at her age."

"Really?" Nicky asked, joyed.

"Yep." Frank nodded. "And your Uncle Danny has her ears, Jamie has her smile, Joe has her eyes. Both Jack and Sean have her curls."

"What about me, Grampa?" Nicky pressed.

He reached up a hand to where hers were holding on to his shoulders, "You...You my dearest, have her hands. These beautiful long piano fingers."

She smiled and held up a hand, inspecting it for herself.

He leaned back smiling at Nicky, "So, yes, I'm happy, it's hard not to be when surrounded by all of you. Make sense?"

"Yes." Nicky nodded into his scarf.

"Never forget I love ya." Frank gave her a wink.

Moments later, when the countdown for the lighting began and all eyes looked to the tree, flush with holiday awe, Frank Reagan stood a step back from the others, watching his family with equal wonder and joy.


	15. Perdition

_May 15, 2009_

It had been a beautiful day Abbey mused as she drove down the belt parkway.

She took the curve around Owl Head Park and tried to not think of the similarly beautiful day they had spent there just over a year ago. As of now there was a plan for another cookout there over Memorial Day in a couple weeks. She wondered if it would still happen.

She angrily wiped at the tears that seemed to keep coming despite focusing all the strength of her will to keep them at bay.

She pulled off the parkway and took the turn up to Mackay Place in time to see Garrett exit a taxi at the corner.

She parked across the street from a stately brick house and turned off the ignition.

For a long moment she stayed in the car, hands still grasping the steering wheel. She must have hesitated too long because Garrett was standing next to her door.

She wiped at her eyes one last time and got out of the car.

"Hey." The DCPI greeted solemnly.

She swallowed, eyes looking at the warm light coming through the bay window.

She looked back to Garrett, "I don't want to do this." She clenched her jaw to keep it from trembling.

"Neither do I." He replied, his voice equally halting, "But I also know that I don't want anyone _else_ to do it either."

"Are we sure we're sure?" Abbey still held back. "We can't do this if we aren't 100% sure."

Garrett tilted his head, "You're the one who heard the scanner."

"But you talked to Captain Garcia." She looked imploringly into his eyes, "He was there? He wasn't just repeating what was on the radio? Because things can get confused..."

Garrett put his hands on Abbey's shoulders, stopping her. Their eyes met, "I just talked to him again in the cab. He went down there. There is no doubt."

Abbey looked up to the heavens and breathed out again.

Garrett stood back, "Look. You don't need to come in." He glanced over his shoulder to the house, "I just figured..." He shrugged, "That you'd _both_ want you here tonight."

"Thanks." Abbey nodded, taking a final, controlling breath. "Let's get moving before he realizes we're standing out here."

Slowly, as if their subconscious were delaying the inevitable, they climbed the walkway until they reached the front door. Garrett stepped forward, pressing the doorbell, then stepped back to be shoulder to shoulder with Abbey.

A moment later Frank Reagan opened the door holding a glass of amber liquid. He was wearing the same suit from earlier in the day minus the tie. His vest was open and he wore a grey cardigan in place of the suit jacket.

He frowned upon realizing who it was. His eyes narrowed and the hint of benign smile that had been on his face disappeared.

"Well don't just leave the door open Francis!" Came a shout from the other room. "Who is it?"

Frank ignored his father, placing his glass down on the entryway table. "Where we going?"

Abbey glanced to Garrett, then back to the Commissioner, "May we come in?"

Frank's brow knitted into furrows but he backed up a few paces gesturing for them to enter.

Abbey kept her eyes averted from the Commissioner's analytic gaze as Garrett shut the door behind them.

The three stood for a silent moment until Frank let out an exasperated sigh, "Well?" He picked his drink back up, "You going to make me guess?"

Abbey and Garrett exchanged looks; Garrett took a quick breath, "Look, Frank. I think you know that we wouldn't have come out here at this time of night if it wasn't..."

Frank pursed his lips and Abbey stalled Garrett's rambling with a hand on his arm.

She straightened and looked her boss in the eye, "We have an officer down."

Frank took a swift drink and put the glass down again.

"When, where, who, what's the status?" He ran off as he shed the cardigan and moved to the other room, retrieving his suit jacket from the back of the sofa.

"Commissioner Reagan," She drew his attention using his title and waited until he turned around. As his eyes locked back in with hers she had a flash of similar blue eyes grinning back at her and she froze.

Frank's eyes widened and his whole being stilled.

"Just say it." He instructed with quiet intensity.

She straightened, "Sir. It's Joe. The call came in at 21:58." As she said the words she felt her eyes begin to water and she looked down, unable to watch the realization unfold on the Commissioner's face.

She heard Henry Reagan stand, his cane clicking on the floor as he joined them.

"Where is he now?" Frank's voice was rough and urgent.

Garrett breathed, "Frank..."

"Garrett, where is my son?" Frank cut him off.

Abbey looked up and watched Garrett's shoulder's stiffen. "Frank, he's still at the scene."

"So then it wasn't that bad?" Henry asked. "He's okay?"

Frank's eyes hadn't left Garrett's face. He swallowed, "No, he's not." He corrected his father's assumption with a flat, gravely voice.

Garrett deflated, "I'm so sorry."

Frank looked down, a long, stuttered breath escaping him. His shoulders bowed and he took a step forward, and then to the side, and then back until his back connected with the wall; he pushed against it, visibly swallowing, head bowed.

Meanwhile Henry was shaking his head, "No. That can't be. He just called." He looked to Francis, "Right?" He turned to Garrett and Abbey, "See, he was here for dinner tonight. Sometimes he does that. And he forgot the book he was reading. He called to say he'll be by around breakfast to pick it up." He started to move toward the kitchen, "We have it right here..."

"Pop stop!" Frank snapped. "That was 3 hours ago."

The three others in the small entry space turned to look at Frank. His eyes were moving restlessly and his mouth was cracked open, breath coming short and fast.

He licked his lips and his jaw trembled, "What time is it?"

Abbey glanced at her watch, "22:19, sir."

"And he's still there?" His eyes shot to Garrett.

Garrett gestured emptily, "Last I heard. They're processing the scene."

It was quiet for a long beat. Garrett shifted, "Joe's partners took out the two shooters."

Frank ignored him, looking down, a barely perceptibly rocking where he stood.

"My boy..." He muttered, almost to himself, "Is lying alone on a New York City sidewalk right now?"

When he looked up his eyes were filled with tears and a burning intensity.

Garrett just swallowed.

"Where?" Frank's voice was deadly.

Abbey shifted, "The corner of 86th and Bay Parkway."

Frank and Henry's eyes met.

"Bensonhurst?" Frank blinked.

"That's barely 3 miles away." Henry's jaw hung. He looked to Frank, "So close to home..."

Frank gave two short nods. With sudden movements he pushed away against the wall, flipping his suit jacket on, "I'm going."

"I don't think that's a good idea..." Garrett interjected the same time Abbey held up a hand, "Let me call Jim."

"No." He spat out. "It's right down the road. I'm going _now_."

Abbey glanced to Garrett who shrugged helplessly.

She sighed, "I have my car with me. May I drive you?"

Frank glanced at her and gave a single nod.

Henry reached out a hand, "Francis..."

Frank looked at his father's outstretched hand for a beat before he grabbed it tightly, meeting his eyes. "You'll stay here Pops?"

He nodded, "You okay with me calling Erin and Jamie?"

Frank rubbed at his eyes, "Danny's working." He remembered out loud with a sigh. He nodded, "Call. I'll be back soon."

He gave a quick nod with his chin, indicating Abbey should lead the way out.

* * *

The short drive was chillingly silent.

Frank sat in the passenger seat, hands clasped between his knees and jaw clenched so firmly that Abbey feared he might chip a tooth.

They could see the blue lights reflecting off the overhead train tracks up ahead as they crossed Cropsey Ave.

A choking sound escaped from Frank and when Abbey glanced over his lower lip was tugged tight between his teeth.

She focused on breathing steadily out her nose as they slowly approached the police tape.

An officer held up a hand indicating she should detour away but she continued to approach slowly, rolling down the window. The exasperated officer stepped up, "Ma'am..." His words died on his lips as he looked into the car, recognizing who was in the passenger seat. He took a breath and tried again, "I'll radio ahead."

Abbey nodded her appreciation and pulled the car up the next block. A cop in the intersection indicated for her to wait as an RMP pulled out allowing her to pull into his place alongside the sidewalk.

She turned off the car and looked to her boss in the seat next to her. When he didn't move she looked back to Garrett who remained equally still.

"Give me a second?" Frank rasped, not looking up.

Wordlessly Abbey and Garrett acquiesced, exiting the car.

3 figures covered in white blankets could be seen down the sidewalk. One was separate from the other two and surrounded by officers who kept glancing over to the car.

Abbey gasped as a new wave of disbelief washed over her. "What do we do?"

Garrett shook his head, "I don't know." His eyes were red and unfocused. ""I wasn't around when Mary died." Garrett observed looking back at Abbey.

She reflected back on that first day when Mary came to the office, and the shock and sadness on the then Chief's face. But she also thought about the following 3 months they all had to come to grips with what was happening and the way the Reagan children were there for their father.

Abbey shook her head, "This isn't that."

Garrett looked down, "I guess not."

The car door clicked open behind them and they stepped back, giving the Commissioner space. He stepped next to them, hands in his pockets, lips tightly pinched. His eyes scanned the scene, looking down as soon as he saw the white sheets. He released a shaky breath and stepped forward.

The other officers began to snap to attention.

"Not now..." He cut them off.

The officers all slowly lowered their salutes, stepping back and looking down as the Commissioner walked the long 50 feet to his target.

Captain Garcia was there, joined by Brooklyn South Deputy Chief Levin.

"Frank..." The Deputy Chief bit his lip.

"I want to see him." Frank didn't look up.

Levin took a shaky breath but nodded to Garcia. The Captain swallowed and bent over, pulling back the white sheet.

Frank's whole frame shuttered as he breathed in and then stilled.

Joe lay on his back, eyes closed, face peaceful even as a large amount of blood pooled beneath his head.

Frank lowered himself to his knees, hovering a shaky hand, pulling it back for an uncertain moment before extending it again, gently cupping his son's cheek. For a long moment the only movement on the block was the light stroke of his thumb along Joe's cooling skin.

After a pause Frank reached over and flipped open a small pocket on Joe's flak jacket, pulling out a wooden set of rosary beads. Frank kissed the cross and then tucked the beads into Joe's still hand. He crossed himself and rested a hand on Joe's chest, over his heart. He bowed his head, lips moving in silent prayer.

A disturbance in the group of cops had everyone looking up in time to see Danny barreling through.

Recognizing the source of the disturbance, Frank broke out of his quiet moment, standing to quickly intercept his eldest.

"DAD!" Danny's eyes were frantic as he rushed forward.

Frank took two large steps to stop Danny before he got close enough to see, hands grasping both shoulders.

Danny ignored his father and struggled to get passed him.

"Danny...Danny...DANIEL STOP."

Finally he stopped, looking up to his father's face. "Tell me it's wrong Dad."

Frank opened his mouth but only managed to release a breath. He swallowed and gently patted the side of Danny's face before he stepped aside, keeping a hand on his shoulder.

Seeing his fallen brother, Danny choked on his breath, "DAMNIT." He shouted, pounding a closed fist on his father's chest, "Damnit, Damnit, Damnit!"

Frank absorbed the blows before he used his larger frame to still his son in an embrace until they were holding each other.

Abbey took note that she and Garrett were not the only ones openly crying.

Despite no one's condemnation Frank pulled back, whispering a "Not here, not now." Danny gave two swift nods, looking down and wiping roughly at his nose.

"Okay?" Frank bent at his knees to look his son in the eye.

Danny sniffed and shook his head. "No." He looked to his Dad, "But I can pretend to be."

"Commissioner?" Captain Garcia nervously interrupted before Frank could reply.

The paramedics had moved Joe to a gurney. Danny and Frank approached together. Frank reached out one last time, patting his son's shoulder before nodding to the medical techs. He stepped back, unable to contain the short, quiet gasp as they zipped up the black body bag over Joe's face.

His chin quivered and his eyes darted around, finally landing on the other two still figures covered in sheets.

His jaw locked and his shoulders squared, hands fisting. He took in a deep breath and seemed to grow taller, eyes darker, all softness disappearing. "Those the shooters?" He asked Garcia without looking away.

"Um, yes sir." the Captain nodded.

Frank took 3 deliberate steps, paused for a beat between the two bodies, then reached down and flipped the sheets away from each man with a sharp jerk. They were both riddled with bloody bullet holes; far more than would have been necessary to put a man down.

He stood between the two men, eyes narrowed, internalizing the faces. All that moved was the slight pulse of a tendon in his cheek as he squeezed his jaw. Even Danny kept his distance.

After a long, tense minute Frank spoke, not looking up, "Gonzalez, Sonny?"

Joe's two partners, still in their duty gear, and brows damp with the sweat of a chase, stepped forward.

Frank glanced to them, "You're both okay?"

"Sir." "Yes, Sir." They nodded in unison.

Frank looked back to the bodies at his feet, "Good work." He muttered.

With a huff he walked away, not bothering to replace the sheets.

Lydia Gozalez bent her head, choking back a sob; Sonny Malevsky watched the Commissioner leave before releasing a sigh.

"Danny!" Frank called after his son, not looking back as he returned to Abbey's car.

The younger man jogged the few paces to keep up.

"How'd you get here?" Frank paused at the curb.

Danny gestured over his shoulder with his thumb, "Mike and I were in Chinatown when I heard the radio call."

Frank gave a nod of acknowledgement to Danny's partner. "Mike, I'm going to take Danny with me. Head back to the precinct. I'm sure your Sergeant will understand."

"Dad..." Danny sighed, "My car is back at the house and..." He stopped, looking over his father's expression. "Sorry. Yeah." He turned, "Thanks Mike."

"Of course." Mike nodded, biting his lip before turning and jogging back to their car.

"Where's the SUV?" Danny looked up and down the street.

Abbey stepped forward, gesturing to her car, "Detective Reagan."

He paused, noticing her and Garrett for the first time. He nodded slowly, piecing together the events of the evening. "Good." he finally muttered. "Come on Dad, let's go."

Frank paused, looking back at the blood stained sidewalk underneath the elevated train for one long moment before following his son into the car.

* * *

The ride back Garrett sat in the passenger seat while father and son sat silently in the back.

The ride was just as quiet as before with both Reagan men in their own thoughts. Occasionally Abbey would catch movement in the rearview mirror as Danny would look at his father, but no words were said, no comforting movement was made.

Even Garrett was quiet for the duration of the ride, a thought that would have made Abbey smile under any other circumstance.

As they pulled off the parkway, Frank sighed. Abbey glanced back to see him fidgeting with his wedding ring.

"You know..." His voice was quiet and flat, head tilted toward Danny, "I keep going back and forth between being grateful your mother didn't live to experience this day...and..." He grimaced and winced, "The completely selfish wish she were still here." He kept his head down, "Because I don't know how I'm going to do this without her."

Danny looked at him, "You have us Dad. That's how. Me and Erin and Jamie and Pops and Linda and the kids. We're all still here."

Abbey pulled up alongside the curb of the quiet brick home.

"Thank you, Detective." Danny muttered, opening the door.

"Of course, Danny." She replied, hoping the small gesture dropping of his title would hint at her personal condolences.

Danny gave an understanding grimace and nod, exiting the car.

Frank didn't move. He sat, hands between his knees and lips rolling, eyes unfocused.

Danny looked back in the car, "Dad? Come on."

Frank broke from his internal revery, blinking. He looked up the road, eyes stopping on the two cars and minivan parked on the street; Erin, Jamie and Linda. His gaze moved up to the house and he shook his head looking back to his hands.

"I...need to go to the office." He muttered.

Abbey and Garrett looked at one another, eyebrows raised.

Frank breathed out through his nose, nodding to himself, "I need to get to work." He repeated with more conviction. "Baker, would you mind dropping me off?"

She blinked at him, and then glanced to Danny who shook his head, "Dad. You do _not_ need to go to the office. What you need to do is come inside."

Frank shook his head, "I have an officer shot and two others involved in discharge of weapon events. There things I need to do."

"Frank..." Garrett tried but Frank didn't bother to look at him.

"There will be IA reports and the shooting team and the mayor, not to mention there is always press but naturally because it's my son there will be more, we will need to have statements prepared and..." Frank kept on, robotically.

"DAD!" Danny had his hands braced on the car roof as he looked through the open door, "Just stop."

Frank finally turned to look at Danny. His jaw quivered and his eyebrows arched, "I..." He took a choking breath, "I can't go in there right now."

Danny glanced over his shoulder at the welcoming home and he sighed, looking back to his father. "Dad." He moved to make eye contact, "It's okay. No one is going to expect you to be strong for us. All we need is to just be together."

Frank swallowed, looking away again, "We're never going to _be_ together, anymore." He muttered quietly.

Danny closed his eyes, his own breath beginning to stutter. "Dad. I don't know what to say to you right now." He bent his knees, squatting to be eye level. "On the car ride back here I wondered what you were thinking; I tried to put myself in your shoes, what I might feel if something were to happen to Sean or Jack..."

Frank's breath hitched.

Danny continued, "I couldn't, Dad. I had to stop. I tried, but I can't bring myself to even imagine the hurt you're in right now. So I'm not going to make any demands or expectations other than I need to make sure you're okay. Alright? So will you come with me?"

Frank didn't move. Abbey looked to Garrett and then back out to Danny. She was trying to think of the right thing to say when Frank finally nodded stiffly and began to shift out of the car. Danny backed up, offering a hand up from the low sedan.

"Maybe..." Frank paused taking in a deep breath, "You go ahead in. I'm just going to take a moment. A little walk just to..." He looked away.

Danny shook his head, "No, not now. Not this time."

Frank looked at him and Danny squared up as best he could, "We're all still here but we need you to still be here too. I'm not going to let you disappear. Not tonight."

He looked up at his father, wrapping a hand around Frank's elbow. "Please, Dad?"

Frank looked back at him, silent.

At that moment the front door opened, "Dad? Danny?"

Erin's voice broke as she called to them from the front stoop. Both men looked up, unmoving.

Henry Reagan came to the door saying something to Erin that couldn't be heard. She nodded, hugging herself and letting him past. He leaned on his cane and limped down the walkway and to the sidewalk.

Reaching the others he patted Danny on the shoulder, "I'm glad you're here." He tilted his head to the front door, "Give us a minute, eh? Go bring your sister back inside."

Danny glanced between the two older men and nodded silently, giving his father's arm a parting squeeze and taking a few brisk steps up the walkway.

Henry turned to Frank and took a deep breath, eyes tracing his face.

He frowned, "I think, sometimes, everyone, even you, forgets that I'm not just some old man here. I am your _father_ and you are my son... _my_ boy whom I've spent decades worrying about every time you step out the door."

Frank looked down.

Henry stepped closer, "You're living my worst nightmare right now." He paused, "And there is nothing I can do to make it better for you." He reached up, placing a hand on his son's cheek, "I wish to God I could, son."

Frank's trembling jaw dropped open and a choked sob escaped as he closed the space between them, collapsing into his father's embrace, shoulders shaking.

Abbey glanced to Garrett who gave a solemn nod. She silently pulled away from the quiet neighborhood.

Garrett looked around as she took the exit for the Brooklyn Bridge, "To the office?" He asked.

She looked back at him, "It's where we need to be, right?"

Garrett looked at her quietly for a long beat, "Right."


	16. Peripeteia

_A/N - Sorry for the delay - after that last chapter it was a hard to figure out how to start again! This chapter is a little extra long to make up for it. Thank you so much for your support in the form of reading and reviews! 1, maybe two more chapters before we end up in the timeline of the series..._

* * *

Abbey looked herself over in the mirror, harnessing a stray hair and straightening her commendation bars.

She fiddled with the hem of the jacket and absently wondered if it was worth getting a new dress uniform that fit better considering the infrequency that she wore it.

She sighed, today was not the day to worry about such things.

She stepped out of the bathroom to find the DCPI already waiting for her.

"Jim and the guys?" Garrett asked as they began the walk to the elevators.

Abbey shook her head, "They're already there. I think Jim's been camped out in Bay Ridge since Friday night just in case the Commissioner needed anything."

Garrett raised his eyebrow, "Has he?"

"No." Abbey sighed, "Jim says this morning is the first time he even spoke with any of the Reagans."

"How about you?" Garrett looked over, "Have you? Heard from him."

She shook her head, "Commissioner Reagan, the first one…Henry, called on Saturday and again on Monday regarding today, but that's been it."

She stopped and looked sharply to Garrett, "Wait, haven't you?"

The man who was the closest thing the Commissioner had to a confidant just grimaced, "I left a voicemail on Sunday saying that no request is too personal or beyond what I'd be willing to do." He looked away, "But no. I haven't heard from him."

He looked back to Abbey, "I think a few of us assumed he was talking with you, considering the reigning in you've been doing on Vincenzo."

Abbey felt her cheeks heat, and waited until the elevator doors had shut before replying, "I don't think it's a bad thing if other people make that assumption, do you?"

Garrett let out a low whistle, "You're dangerous." He smiled at her for what might have been the first time since Friday, "I like it." They stepped out at the garage level, heading to Abbey's car.

She looked around to make sure they would not be overheard, "Since being bumped into the number 2 spot, Vincenzo just constantly seems to be salivating for any time the Commissioner isn't in the building. I may have gotten a little protective of the turf this week."

"Well you're doing a good job." Garrett nodded, "There isn't very much we can be doing for the Reagans right now but keeping the department running the way that Frank would want it to be is one thing we _can_ do."

Abbey smiled her gratitude, stopping before getting in the driver side, "What about you? You haven't had a moment off since the call came in."

Garrett got in the passenger seat, shrugging it off, "The press requests cooled a little after Monday's news cycle declined. I managed to sleep in a little on Tuesday but with the funeral today everything heated up again yesterday." He frowned, "If I did my job right the press should show some respect and keep their distance." He looked down, "That's all I'm hoping for right now."

Abbey nodded and they drove the rest of the way to the Brooklyn church in silence.

They had to park several blocks away as the road was already blocked by a sea of dress uniforms. As they approached she noticed the men directing traffic were officers and detectives from Danny's precinct; several of whom she knew were off duty, including a Lieutenant guiding cars to parking spots.

Badges from Boston through Atlanta and Pittsburgh caught her eye as they walked toward the church.

She heard Garrett take an audible breath and she followed his sight line to the park across the street where several news organizations had set themselves up.

Abbey recognized officers from Joe's old patrol precinct corralling the press away from the sidewalk. Other off duty officers, including several brass were working the small church parking lot and making space for people in civilian clothes; Abbey assumed them to be extended family and friends.

Garrett leaned over to her pointing out one man, "That is Mary's nephew, a hot shot for the ALCU; I'm almost surprised he's here. He was pretty rough on the NYPD about a decade ago."

"Family comes first." She replied thoughtlessly.

A movement caught her eye and she looked over to see Jim Nucifero approaching.

She greeted the head of the Commissioner's detail with a lift of her chin.

His face never broke from his stony, focused default, "Boss wanted to make sure you two get inside."

Abbey clenched her molars. Garrett blinked, looked down and cleared his throat.

He nodded and indicated Jim should lead the way.

Abbey felt a small grin pull on her lips.

"What?" Garrett called her on it.

She shrugged, "Just remembering your first year. You were so concerned about your relationship with the Commissioner."

Garrett swallowed and nodded, "Yeah." He looked at her with misty eyes.

They squeezed their way through the growing crowd and into the church. Jim lead them past rows of officers and brass and crying civilians, right up to the second pew.

Abbey hesitated, glancing at Jim who just indicated the pew, "Instructions were clear. Make sure you're close."

Abbey nodded, "Thank you." She genuflected and moved in to the row, followed by Garrett.

Shortly the Reagans appeared from a side door in the church and hush fell over the crowded building.

Abbey fought to keep the surprise off her face when she saw her boss; unlike every other cop funeral she'd seen him attend, Frank Reagan was wearing a dark suit instead of his uniform. She tried not to stare as the family moved across the aisle and settled into the pew in front of them.

During the quiet times in the office after Mary died Abbey had thought Frank seemed perpetually lost, searching for stability. Now, he seemed tired and, for the first time since she met him, he looked old.

His shoulders were bowed but there was still tension, as if his frame was being physical bent under a heavy burden. His steps were uneven and when he sunk into his seat he released a sigh of exhaustion.

Abbey ducked her head and prayed.

The service itself was long. She was familiar enough with Catholic services thanks to the number of Irish and Italian Catholics in the NYPD but she still felt uncertain with all the ritual; she did not want to accidentally offer insult on today of all days.

A former classmate read a bible verse and Erin read a poem. Henry Reagan stood and delivered the eulogy.

The former commissioner's word were uncharacteristically subdued and sweet, recalling moments of innocence from Joe's youth and extolling his grandson's commitment to duty and service. Through out, Frank remained still as stone, head slightly bowed, lips pursed, hands in his lap.

It wasn't until after Henry sat back down that the Commissioner's stoicism broke. He looked up with surprise as Danny rose and walked to the front of the church. A look of comprehension crossed Frank's face and his chin quivered as Danny placed a hand on his brother's coffin.

Abbey looked on in confusion as tears began to gather in the older man's eyes before Danny even opened his mouth, but she quickly understood.

To her surprise, the rough around the edges, battle tested Marine and gruff Detective began to sing. Unaccompanied, Danny sang Amazing Grace in a strong high tenor.

The sounds of muffled cries echoed through the church when he finished.

Abbey wiped away her tears and looked down the front pew to the youngest Reagan, expecting the articulate Harvard graduate to be the next to offer something in memory of his brother.

Jamie Reagan did not move to rise. He sat stonily sat between his niece and his brother, jaw clenched tightly enough to see the pulsing tendon. His eyes were rimmed red but were dry and he was focused straight ahead with laser intensity. His lips were pursed firmly shut.

She had never considered the young lawyer to share the formidable presence of his father or older brothers but in that moment she knew she had underestimated him.

While she was considering this the priest finished the service and Frank and his two sons rose to join three of Joe's former partners at the casket and begin the processional to the grave site.

Not many words were shared as the large crowd filtered out. Blinking in the sun, Abbey realized the crowd of cops had only grown during the service, many never even making it inside the church. The whole block was packed end to end with saluting officers; the only clear path being the one the pallbearers had walked to the black hearse.

Diagonally across the road the press remained in their corner of the park. Garrett stood at the top of the steps with Abbey, glancing around and nodding in satisfaction at the lack of any press closer to the family.

Eventually they joined the long vehicle processional to the graveyard. As they passed, on duty officers exited their RMPs and stood at attention.

In contrast to the church ceremony the internment at the cemetery was short and the crowd dispersed quickly.

Abbey and Garrett began to follow, leaving the family to their private graveside vigil when a quiet, "Baker." Caused her to stop.

She turned back in time to see Erin give her father a concerned look that he dismissed with a squeeze of her hand before letting go and turning up the walkway to face them.

He came to a stop, his hands buried in his pockets.

"I just wanted to say thank you." He looked back and forth between them. "I know we weren't exactly prepared for a me to be taking time but…" He grimaced, "Well, I know I haven't been accessible but I assume I would have heard about it if the city burned down so thanks for handling things."

Abbey just nodded.

"Of course Frank." Garrett shook his head, "It goes without saying, take all the time you need."

Frank winced, started to say something, but thought better of it and reset. He looked to Abbey, "I'll still be out tomorrow but I'm going to sneak in on Saturday for a few hours, try and clean up some backlog while the building is quiet."

She nodded, "I'll make a stack of the top stuff."

"Thanks." He affirmed, "You don't need to be there. Just leave it on my desk and then I'll see you all like normal on Monday."

He took a deep breath then nodded to them and turned back to rejoin his family.

Garrett sighed and looked to Abbey, "I guess I'll be seeing you Saturday?"

* * *

 _6 Weeks Later_

"Once the men on the roof have the fire escapes covered then SWAT will move from the rear with flash bangs and smoke."

"That will only be on my signal." Deputy Chief of the Detective Bureau Timothy Dunne clarified.

"You'll be on scene?" Garrett asked, eyebrow arched and glancing over to the commissioner who didn't look up from the paper in front of him.

Dunne nodded, "We have 3 years and 35 officers invested for it to come down to this. You better believe that I will be there myself when it pays off."

Garrett nodded and he along with everyone else turned their attention to the head of the conference table.

Frank's head was down, seemingly oblivious to the attention on him.

Dunne and Grayson, the SWAT Chief, exchanged looks and then looked to Garrett who just grimaced and glanced to Abbey. She tried to keep her reaction blank but a single eyebrow arched up.

Garrett cleared his throat.

The Commissioner's thumb thrummed on the paper in front of him, "Tell me again; we have the building layout and scout postings from a C.I.?"

"A couple informants actually." Dunne nodded, "Detective Grayson in the 5-2 and Detective Delaney in the 3-8 have been running both of them for 18 and 3 months respectively."

Frank looked up, lips pinched into a grimace, "Who are these CIs?"

"Sir?" Dunne tilted his head.

"They're drug addicts, right?" He took off his glasses and held them with both hands.

Dunne looked over the Commissioner's shoulder to Abbey. She looked back blankly.

"Ummm. Yes sir." He redirected his attention back to the Commissioner, "I do believe that is how both Detectives Grayson and Delaney initiated the relationships."

Frank held his glasses in a closed fist and absently tapped on the table. "So we are supposed to trust the lives of two squads of our officers to a couple of crack heads?"

"Sir," Grayson leaned in to take the attention off of Dunne, "The confidential informants were helpful but naturally we will have extra precautions. The sniper squad captain believes the windows provide a clear line of sight to 80% of the building."

"And the other 20%?" Frank shot back.

"Well…" Grayson blinked and looked over to Dunne, and then back to the Commissioner.

"Let me put it to you this way," Frank lay out, "Say it was you I was asking to bust down a door. And suppose that I swear to you there are only 3 guys with no high powered weapons on the other side of the door. But suppose instead of me making that promise it's a career drug addict; someone who spends his life trying to obscure his own reality."

Frank took a deep breath and leaned heavily on his elbows, "Would you trust your life to a crack head? How can we ask our people to trust us if that is where our information is coming from?"

Dunne swallowed and looked around the room, "Sir, we have been working on this case for 3 years, this raid specifically for the last 2 weeks. Detectives, Narcotics, OCCB and SWAT have all put in overtime on this." He gestured to the raid plans on the table, "This is as solid as we are going to get."

Frank ran his index finger over his top lip and shook his head, "It's not solid enough."

"Sir…" Dunne clenched his jaw, "We don't exactly have a large window of opportunity here."

Frank gathered his folders and tapped them with finality as he stood, "Then I suggest you work fast."

He turned and disappeared through the door to his office.

The conference room was quiet for a long moment as the 4 remaining looked at one another.

Abbey cleared her throat and stood, "The Commissioner has a call in 10 minutes but I can clear time after 3 this afternoon. Why don't you two come back up with some of the other people who helped put this op together at 3:15?"

Dunne and Grayson exchanged a silent agreement and began to gather their notes.

"Look," Grayson tossed obliquely to Garrett as he organized his papers, "I get it. It's barely been a month since his kid bought it on the job but we have too many resources tied up in this for him to be gun shy on a perfectly good op."

Garrett glanced to Abbey. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at Grayson.

He had the decency to wince.

"We'll be back this afternoon." Dunne interrupted before anything else could be said and the two deputies left the room.

Garrett turned slowly back to Abbey, "He's not wrong."

Abbey sighed, holding her files tight to her chest, "The Commissioner also has a point. This is a big op that ultimately rests on the say-so of a couple of addicts."

Garrett sighed, "This isn't the first time he's hesitated since Joe..."

Abbey bit the inside of her lips, "You were there. You saw what I saw." She looked away, "I'm impressed everyday he's shown up here since; I can't imagine what goes through his head each time he's asked to sign off on a op that puts men in danger."

"I know, me too." Garrett exhaled, "But it's the job. And if he can't handle it..."

Abbey glared at him, wide eyed.

He sighed, "I'm just saying, too many more meetings like this and there's going to start to be talk down the ranks."

Abbey took a deep breath and looked at the closed office door. She nodded once, "Okay."

She picked up the folder he left behind which contained the operation outline and schematic. She shrugged at Garrett, "Give me a few minutes."

She took a deep breath and opened the door to the office and stepped in without knocking.

"You don't need to say it."

She had to look around the door to find the Commissioner as he spoke; his back was to the door as he stood in front of the bookshelf that held the folded green and white flag that had draped Joe's casket.

"Sir?" She hesitantly questioned.

He turned around with raised eyebrows.

"I figured you'd be Garrett coming in to tell me I'm being gun shy." He stuck his hands in his pockets and tilted his head. "Maybe I over estimated his courage and he sent you in his place?"

Abbey couldn't help but smile, "I did speak with the DCPI, sir, but I am the one who suggested he not come talk with you yet." She held up the folder, "I just thought you might want this."

The Commissioner's face tightened as he realized what she was holding.

He took in a deep breath and looked to his shoes for a beat before looking back at her, "Do _you_ think I'm being overly cautious?"

She blinked at being asked the question. "Caution isn't a bad thing when talking about putting officers in position to be shot at." She offered diplomatically.

He gave a curt nod, "True, but do you think I'm saying no where I previously would have said yes?"

She flattened her lips, thinking carefully over her next words, "I think, only you know for sure how you would have previously reacted to any particular scenario."

Frank stared at her for a quiet beat. He sighed and leaned against the arm chair, rubbing at the side of his brow. "I'd like to ask you something, and you don't need to answer if you'd rather not talk about it."

"Of course, Sir." Abbey blinked and straightened her shoulders, unconsciously bracing herself for whatever the question may be.

He pursed his lips and his gaze was unfocused to somewhere over her shoulder. When he spoke it was quiet and deliberate, as if he was thinking out loud, "You wanted to resign once; after your partner was killed."

Abbey swallowed and tensed her jaw, "I did."

"How did you know?" His eyes snapped to hers and she was momentarily rocked by the uncertainty in their depths. "Your first few years on the job were pretty rough; gave you plenty of opportunities to consider walking away but you didn't...until you did. What was the moment, the trigger that made you decide you were done?"

Abbey's breath caught in her throat as she suddenly was cast back to memories of days she'd rather forget. The anger and pain and loss and confusion swirled once again and she felt her pulse quicken and her throat tighten.

She closed her eyes and forced herself to take a deep breath and remember the steady gaze from the trusting slate eyes of the man in front of her the moment he extended her a life raft.

She swallowed and opened her eyes,looking steadily back, "I wasn't done. I only thought I was, until I was offered a way to serve that I hadn't previously considered."

Frank's lips curved into a sympathetic frown, "Maybe it's a poor analogy. I don't exactly have too many on-the-job options if I leave this office. Anywhere I go from here will, at some level require me to decide to put officer's lives on the line."

Abbey bit hard on her lip at hearing Frank Reagan utter the words 'leave this office.'

He looked down and thumbed his chin and spoke quietly, almost to himself, "I can't do the job if I see my son's face each time I have to make a decision."

"Which one?"

The words were out of her mouth before she had the presence of mind to realize she had spoken them and her eyes flew wide when the Commissioner looked up sharply.

The silence was long and heavy.

Frank took in a heavy breath and rolled in his lips, looking at the floor for a long moment. "Tell me what you meant by that." He ordered slowly looking up, piercing Abbey with a stare which almost had her backing to the door.

Instead she held her ground and took a deep breath, "Sir. If you were to resign, the NYPD would continue to exist without you; still putting 35,000 men and women on the streets patrolling, performing raids on drug dens and operations against organized crime and anti-terror measures. If you resign, someone else will be commissioner making those decisions for all the sons and daughters on the force..."

She didn't say the words but _'including Danny'_ hung in the air as clearly as if she had.

Frank shifted, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and looking down again.

Abbey ran her tongue inside her teeth and took another breath, "I think first you need to decide if you are okay with not being in the room where those decisions are being made and second, if there is anyone in position whom you do trust to make those choices."

She shifted her weight, held her hands tightly, "For what it's worth, sir? No one would ever say that what your family has gone through was a good thing, but as an officer who lost a partner because we were put in a position with inadequate resources, I don't see it as a bad thing if the man making these decisions truly knows the weight of the potential cost." She swallowed, fighting to control the tremor that ran throughout her whole body.

Frank took a long deep inhale through his nose. He shifted, head tilting, looking back to the flag on the bookshelf. After a long moment he glanced back to Abbey and gave a single nod, "Thank you for that."

He stood stiffly, returning his hands to his pockets and walking heavily to his desk. He opened the top right drawer and pulled out an envelope. He looked at it for a moment, tapped it once on the desk then held it out to her.

She reached out a hand, "Sir?"

He grimaced, "My resignation."

She withdrew her hand.

He extended it again, "I haven't decided, but if you hold on to it then we can be sure you have a chance to talk me out of it before I do something impulsive."

Abbey took a deep breath and reached back out, accepting the envelope. She ran her fingers over the edge of the heavy, textured paper, reading the mayor's name in the Commissioner's clean script.

She bit her lower lip and looked up to the Commissioner who was watching her.

"Sir, if it's okay to ask...How are you doing?"

Frank grimaced and shrugged his eyebrows with a heavy sigh, "I probably shouldn't tell you how many times I've pulled that letter out."

Abbey looked back down at the envelope, "Well, for one, I am glad you haven't done anything with it yet."

"Yet..." The Commissioner sighed and settled into his chair.

Abbey tilted her head, allowing her concern to paint her face. He rolled his eyes and held up his hands, "I know, I know."

He lowered his hands, "Look, you're the one who I lean on the most and of anyone in this building you have the right to ask and have a sense as to what is happening...however," He looked at her pointedly, "I remind you that I live with my nosey father, have an over protective eldest, an overly sensitive youngest and a daughter with a propensity for hovering."

Abbey looked down, biting back a smile, "Of course sir. I understand."

A ghost of amusement flicked across the Commissioner's face, "I'm just saying, the weekend hours I've been putting in have been less about making up for the week I took off and more about needing a break from the surplus of concerned persons at home."

"Noted." Abbey gave an empathetic grin.

Frank nodded his appreciation and sighed, "Alright. Guess we should get back to work?"

"I've scheduled Chiefs Grayson and Dunne to come back up at 3:15." She handed him the folder of the operation's schematics.

He hesitated a beat before reaching out and accepting the materials. "Thank you."

She held up the envelope with the resignation letter, "And I'll just put this somewhere safe."

"Thanks for that too." He nodded to her as she left the office.

Returning to her desk she slipped the envelope into the thin hidden drawer underneath her desk and locked it.

Garrett came around the corner as she was slipping the key into her purse.

"We have a problem." He held out a large stack of bound papers opened to a center page.

She took them and glanced them over, trying to ignore Garrett hovering over her shoulder as she tried to decipher what she was looking at.

"Center of the page; look for a familiar name." He guided.

She felt her eyebrows arch toward her hairline. She looked up to Garrett and then to the closed office door.

She looked back to the DCPI, "Does he know?"

Garrett shook his head, "I don't think so."

She looked back to the page and then flipped to the front page to verify it was what she thought it was; ' _July 2009 Applicants For NYPD Entrance Exam; 2010 Academy_ '

"How did you get this?"

Garrett shrugged, "The sergeant accepting the application thought someone in this building should get the heads up."

"What day is he taking the test?" She flipped back to the middle page, looking again at the name.

"With the application accepted he can take it anytime it's being offered 6 days a week until the next Academy class is convened."

"I know." Abbey rolled her eyes, "I just mean, we don't know if he signed up for a particular day yet?"

Garrett shook his head.

"So what do we do?" She asked, returning the list to him.

"About what?" Garrett and Abbey's faces snapped to the Commissioner standing in the doorway to his office.

Abbey looked to Garrett who was looking back at her.

She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head to the Commissioner.

Garrett's eyes widened and he gave a short shake of his head.

The Commissioner stepped forward, a raised eyebrow. "Let me ask again, _what_ should you do about _what_?"

Garrett clenched the papers in his hand, sent one last glance to Abbey before sighing and handing over the list.

Frank pulled his glasses out of his vest and glanced at the cover sheet.

He glanced to his two most trusted colleagues, "So?"

Abbey took a deep breath, "Page 64".

Frank pursed his lips and lifted his chin as he flipped to the right page.

Abbey clenched her thumbs as she watched him scan the page, knowing exactly the moment he saw Jamie's name. His eyes paused, his jaw narrowed and his whole being tightened. His eyes flicked back to the top of the page then lasered in on the middle of the page again.

He swallowed and reached out a hand to brace on Baker's desk. He rested it there for only a beat before straightening again. His mustache rolled and he flipped the file shut, his thumb tapping cover page.

The phone rang and Abbey resisted the urge to jump at the sound.

She moved to answer the phone, "Commissioner's Office."

" _Um, yeah, Hi Detective, it's Jamie...um, Jamie Reagan?_ "

Her eyes flicked to the Commissioner, "Yes, of course Jamie." The Commissioner's eyes shot up to meet hers.

" _Umm, is my Dad in his office this afternoon?_ "

Abbey nodded, "Aside from a meeting between 3:15 and 4 he should be here all day."

" _Good. I mean...yeah, good. Okay, well. Um, do me a favor, don't let him know I called?_ "

"Of course not."

" _Thank you, Detective._ "

She hung up the phone to see the Commissioner staring at it. He inhaled deeply through his nose, "Jamie?"

"Yes, Sir." She nodded, "Sounds like he's planning to come see you some time this afternoon."

Frank nodded, glanced down at the bound list in his hand before dropping it on the desk. "Okay." He exhaled and looked back at them, "Garrett, you have my remarks for the PBA conference next week?"

"A draft." Garrett replied. The two men stared at one another for a beat until Garrett's eyes lit with understanding, "I, uh, will go get that for you."

Frank tossed Baker a roll of his eyes as Garrett left.

He sighed and turned to reenter his own office but paused with his hand on the door. He glanced back to the list of potential future cops and gave a slight shake of his head.

"Baker?" He looked to her with a pained expression, "If this goes the way I expect it to, the day that Jamie starts at the Academy you can tear up that letter...and make sure I don't write another."


	17. Incipience

Abbey kept the Commissioner's letter locked away for 6 months.

Finally, early on a non-descript morning in January she pulled it out from it's hidden place and tucked it in her jacket pocket before joining Jim in the dark SUV headed to Brooklyn.

Jim's usual partner, Jeremy, was taking some personal time and Abbey found herself often covering his shifts in the car with Jim. She didn't mind, she enjoyed working with Jim; he had known the Commissioner for a long time and his quiet humor was a rare treat. Plus, she was finally trusting the office staff enough that she didn't stress every moment she was away from her desk. Her new smart phone made it possible for her to accomplish most work remotely...and watch videos. Jim Nucifero was a quiet man, well suited to his position but it turned out he had an affinity for stupid animal videos and car chases and on the mornings she joined him they would often share a laugh over a video while waiting to pick up the Commissioner.

There was no time for a video that morning; the Commissioner appeared out the side door almost as soon as they pulled up to the familiar brick house.

He was followed closely by Jamie in a crisp Cadet uniform.

"Morning." Frank greeted as he entered the vehicle.

"Sir." Both Baker and Nucifero greeted in unison.

"Dad, I'm just saying..." Jamie was continuing a previous conversation as he got into the seat next to his father.

Frank cut him off with a gesture, "Just stop it. Your grandfather dropped me off at my first day of the Academy and I dropped off Danny and then Joe on their first days. It's not up for debate." He punctuated with his hand.

Jamie shook his head, "You weren't Commissioner on Danny and Joe's first day; neither was Pops on yours."

"I know that." Frank nodded grimly, "And the reality of what my position means for you will hit home soon enough." He sighed, "Probably within the hour." He looked to Jamie in askance, "But for now, I would like to take this last 25 minutes to just be a father to my son before he becomes another one of my men."

Abbey glanced in the rear view mirror to see Jamie bite the inside of his cheeks and look down.

Frank exhaled with a huff and glanced to Jim in the drivers seat, "Alright, let's do this. Headed to the Academy, Jim."

Jim nodded and pulled away from the curb.

Frank smirked at Jamie, "Last chance to back out; Detective Nucifero isn't going to stop you'd better tuck and roll."

"No way." Jamie gave a resolute shake of his head.

"Good." Frank nodded.

Jamie looked at him sideways, "Yeah?"

"Of course!" Frank grimaced indignantly, "I told you before, you're going to be a great cop, not to mention a huge asset. I wish it were possible for every recruit to have an ivy law degree. Things have only gotten more complicated in the past decade and having lawyers becoming cops instead of the other way around is a huge coup."

Jamie rolled his eyes. "That sounds like the Commissioner talking."

Frank sighed.

"What's my Dad think?" Jamie pushed, "Really."

Frank's lip twisted wryly, "I'm proud of you son. Really." He breathed out his nose and looked ahead, "Just don't ask me to deny having any level of apprehension." He looked back to Jamie, "But that's on me and not something for you to worry about. You just focus on doing the best you can and I'll never be anything but proud."

Jamie nodded and looked out the window.

Frank fidgeted his thumbs, "I mean that you know." He waited until he had Jamie's attention, "Look, you have always been a great student but the academy is different then school or college. It's not just about studying hard; there are somethings that come naturally for some and not at all to others." He shifted, "Not to mention that one of the first things you will probably discover is that having this last name means you'll be held to an even higher standard than your classmates." He looked sideways at his son, "So, for once, don't focus on being top of class. You don't need that pressure."

Jamie swallowed and nodded, keeping his eyes ahead, "I got it."

Frank took a slow breath, "And, don't read anything in to this, I'm not suggesting anything, but..." He waited for Jamie to look at him, "if you decide you've made a mistake and want to back out, there is no shame in saying so. I won't ever stop loving you or being proud of you, even if you don't finish the Academy. It's okay to change your mind."

Jamie shook his head, "Pop. Nothing you or anyone else says is going to keep me from becoming a cop. I _will_ finish this."

Frank gave a tight lipped smile and a short nod, "I know you will."

He focused on his hands in his lap and the back seat was quiet for a few blocks.

"You talk to Danny about what to expect?" Frank broke the quiet.

Jamie rolled his eyes, "Yes Dad. Many times over the last six months. And Grandpa. _And_ you as recently as yesterday if you don't recall."

Frank smirked for a second but quickly sobered and shook his head, "I don't mean about the academy."

Jamie looked back at him quizzically. After a long moment his eyes looked up, "You mean about you?"

His father shrugged, "It is going to be a greater factor for you than it was for any of the rest of us."

"What does that mean?" Jamie shifted in his seat.

Frank frowned and gestured with an open hand, "I was a sergeant in the detective bureau with lieutenant's promotion already in progress by the time your Grandfather became PC. Danny was an experienced Detective and Joe was on probation in the Detective Bureau when I moved to the 14th floor." He sighed, "Anyone can tell you that being a cadet and a rookie means the short end of a lot of sticks," He looked up to the rear view mirror, making amused eye contact with both Baker and Nucifero, "And Danny and I can tell you that having your old man as PC can be a real pain when brass and peers assume things about you; when there is talk about having a hook every time you make a move..." He looked back at Jamie, "But you'll be the first who will have to experience both at the same time."

"I know." Jamie nodded, "I'm just going to keep my head down."

"Good." Frank patted his leg, "Don't let anyone distract you from that. These next 28 weeks and then the probationary year after that are just about you building your own identity as a cop. It's not your place to defend Danny or I if someone talks smack; it's nothing we haven't heard before, don't give anyone the satisfaction of knocking you off your game."

Franks eyes were dark and his tone serious, "And Jamie, you are a Harvard educated lawyer whose been going to shooting ranges with cops since the 7th grade; a lot is going to seem easy to you and you will be moving ahead faster than a lot of others starting from scratch. That's going to get some jaws flapping. Do what you said, keep your head down and your mouth shut, don't worry about any talk about your hook. You live by your ethics and everyone who matters will know that you're getting where you're going on your own."

"And I plan to." Jamie looked steadily at his father, "I don't want a hook Dad."

"Good." Frank nodded, "Because I'm not going to be one for you."

Jamie smiled and looked away.

"I'm serious." Frank got his attention. "Jamie, this is what I was talking about when I said this is going to change a lot of things. I am always going to be your father but I am also the police commissioner and now you are going to be one of my cops. No matter _what,_ I will support you, but there may be times when I can't do so openly."

He looked down, "Every cop gets jammed up at some point in their lives. Even if you do your best to keep your nose clean youare going to end up talking with IAB at some point, or facing a complaint or a civil suit or suspension or some other instance where I will be in a position to smooth things over and make it go away. But I won't. Hell, I give express orders to those around me to not even tell me when one of my kids gets backed into a corner." He tossed another glance to Abbey in the front seat.

"You may feel betrayed or abandoned, and we won't be able to talk about it, even at home. It will eat me up inside but I'll keep my distance anyway. What you need to know is that I will be keeping out of it _not_ because I don't care, but because I believe in you and I refuse to compromise your integrity for a quick way out of a jam I know you can get out of on your own."

Jamie swallowed and nodded, "I get that."

"It won't just be the tough spots where there will be odd moments." Frank continued. "There will be times we're in the same room and I won't acknowledge you. No eye contact, no wink tossed your way, no nod, nothing to indicate I even realize you exist. I've had practice, but it will be new for you and I have to admit, it will never not feel weird.

"But it will be better than if you singled me out in any way in front of my fellow officers." Jamie confirmed.

Frank took a deep breath, "You _have_ been talking to Danny."

"I told you I have." Jamie insisted.

Frank tilted his head, "And what else did your brother have to say?"

Jamie rolled his eyes, "Just that once being a cop becomes part of your identity it's not something you can just shut off when you're home. And part of that identity is respecting the structure of the department and its hierarchy." He looked to his father, "He said that despite being family that there is a line that will be drawn between us that wasn't there before. That there will be things I'll no longer be able to talk to you about."

Frank blinked rapidly and looked down.

"If anything makes me uncertain about becoming a cop, that would be it. I don't want to have anything between us." Jamie finished.

Frank looked to his son with tense appreciation, "Me neither."

"Danny also said, that despite all that, that if I'm smart about it, I can still come to you with anything." Jamie leaned forward a little, the statement coming out as more of a question.

Frank grinned a tight smile that lifted his mustache, "Well, you are a Harvard grad, I hear they have some standards in the smarts department."

Jamie looked to him seriously, "He was right?"

"Jamie, you're going to be one of my officers now. And it is in both of our best interests for you to be as independent as any other officer. But, and this is important, and I need you to hear it, I am your _father._ Always will be. That comes first."

He rolled his lips and tilted his head, "So come to me with problems of a 'friend' or speak in vague terms, father to son, rookie to vet, we can talk about most anything if we're both careful. And, if you're in a real tough spot, in over your head, know that I don't care about protocol or standards or anyone's perception; if you feel the need to come to me don't ignore it. Talk to me. I will always be there for you."

Jamie gave a stilted nod, "Okay." his voice was quiet.

"Okay." Frank nodded with finality.

The car was quiet again as they went over the bridge and began to approach the last few blocks.

Frank's hands tapped restlessly on his knees.

He looked to his son, "You're boots broken in enough?"

"Yep." Jamie nodded, looking down, "Been working them for a month."

"Good. Good." Frank nodded. He paused then looked over again, "Your PT gear regulation? Got the right shorts?"

Jamie rolled his eyes, "Yes, Dad. Brand new. Syd bought me a whole bunch of regulation gym gear."

"Good." Frank nodded again, "And she knows she's invited to come eat or stay at the house any time, right? She'll be an academy widow for a few months so if she's lonely she doesn't need to call ahead or even knock."

"She knows, Dad." Jamie grinned and shook his head, looking out the window.

"Okay, just making sure." Frank looked out his own window for a fraction for a second before turning back, "How about your laundry? Did you do your laundry? This first week is going to be a rough one and you're not going to want to stay up late just have clean socks."

"Dad!" Jamie snapped with amusement, "Yes. Laundry is done and I have plenty of socks and undershirts and boxers. My gun license is in my wallet and I have extra dollars for vending machines and I promise to look both ways before crossing the street."

"Okay, Okay." Frank relented, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

Jamie rolled his eyes but smiled, eyes looking back out the window at the passing sidewalks.

Frank smiled and tilted his head, "Nervous?"

Jamie looked back apprehensively, "Maybe a little."

"Good." Frank grinned and sat back in his seat.

His grin faded as they pulled up to the front of the old building which housed the Police Academy.

Frank sighed, "Well, here we are." He looked to Jamie, "I'll do you the favor of not getting out and giving you a hug in front of everyone; doesn't mean I don't want to."

"I know." Jamie nodded seriously. He took a deep breath and reached for the door handle.

"Oh! Wait.." Frank stopped him with a quick wave of his hand as he dug into his suit pocket and pulled out a small piece of metal that he held out to Jamie.

Jamie looked at it in confusion, "What? Dad. I'm all set. I have my NYPD tie clip."

Frank gave a solemn nod, "I know. But this one's mine."

Jamie looked up and Frank shrugged, "I got Pops' collar pins. Danny and I swapped name plates. Joe and I swapped shoulder patches." He swallowed and glanced to the front seat and Abbey averted her eyes for the otherwise private moment, "It's..." He paused, searching to put words to the symbolism, "Just a reminder that even if there is a...line between us, or whatever Danny called it...That I'm always thinking about you. Your family always has your back."

Jamie reached out gingerly for the small medal clip with the NYPD insignia. He looked down and carefully replaced the one he already had on his tie and held his out to his father, "And you want mine?"

Frank smiled, "I do." He closed his fingers tightly around it, "And know I'll be wearing it to your Academy graduation."

Jamie nodded, "Okay." a calm smile replaced the nervous one that had previously been there.

Frank sighed and glanced at his watch then looked out the window to the other cadets filtering in, "Alright. You ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"Got your lunch money?"

Jamie rolled his eyes.

"An apple for the teacher? Freshly sharpened pencils?" Frank grinned.

"Alright, alright, alright." Jamie waived him away.

"Okay, I won't keep you." Frank nodded to the door, "Go, work hard, I'll see you on the other side."

"Thanks Dad." Jamie put on his hat and stepped out of the vehicle.

"Jamison!"

Frank's call halted Jamie before he could fully close the door and he peered back in.

Frank looked at him for another long moment, "I _am_ proud of you. Really."

Jamie smiled and unconsciously fiddled with his tie clip. "Love you, Dad."

Frank smiled, "Love you too, son. Now go to work."

Jamie nodded and closed the door and disappeared into the crowd. Frank watched through the tinted window, satisfied that with the exception of a few senior instructors on the sidewalk most of the crowd never even glanced at the conspicuous black SUV that Jamie had exited from.

He sighed and rested his head back, the smile fading from his face, "Okay Jim. One PP."

"You got it, Boss." Jim pulled the car away from the curb and Frank grimaced, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

Abbey looked back at him via the mirror and he tilted his head, "Lovely for you to join us again this morning Detective."

"It's always nice to go for a ride with Detective Nucifero." She smiled back.

Frank's eyes narrowed and traced her face, "What else?"

"Sir?" She questioned.

He smirked, "You have that look; there's something you need to tell me or ask me. What is it?"

She relented with a shake of her head, looking away and then back up as she pulled the envelope out of her jacket, "Do you still want me to shred this today?"

He leaned forward, taking the envelope from her fingers.

He examined it carefully, pursing his lips.

He pulled a slim knife out from his pocket and sliced open the seal. He pulled out the letter and read it to himself.

He grimaced.

"Nothing's changed."

Abbey turned in her seat to look back at him.

He rolled his lips. "My son is still dead. I still struggle with the decisions I have to make." He inhaled heavily, and looked up to meet Abbey's eyes, "And you're still right."

He maintained eye contact with her as he methodically ripped the letter into pieces, "As long as my boys are on the force it will be a long time, if ever that I'll be comfortable not being in the room where the decisions are being made."

He handed her the shredded pieces and sighed, "I hope they can forgive me for that."


	18. Postulations

"Officer Michael Paulus is promoted to Detective 3rd grade." Frank smiled at the uniformed office who rose and approached the small stage in the tight press room.

Abbey handed over the promotion materials and the new detective stepped up to the Commissioner before retaking his seat next to his smiling wife and daughter.

Frank glanced at the next name on the list and his mustache twitched, "Officer Anthony Renzulli is promoted to the rank of Sergeant."

Renzulli stood, straightening his jacket giving a nod to Baker and receiving his handshake from the Commissioner.

After the final promotion the group was formally dismissed and coffee and pastries were brought in for an informal reception as officers mingled and congratulated one another.

Abbey was standing back, smiling happily at the scene when she noticed Tony Renzulli approaching her.

"Sergeant." She greeted.

He nodded stiffly, "Hey there Detective." He grimaced nervously, "Um, do you think it might be possible for me to have a few minutes with the Commissioner this afternoon?"

Abbey blinked and glanced to the Commissioner listening intently to the proud mother of one of the new detectives.

Mentally she reviewed what demands were still on the schedule for the day before nodding, "Shouldn't be a problem. What is it about?"

Renzulli licked his lips, chewing lightly on the inside, "It's..." He sighed, "It's not important if he's busy."

Abbey scanned his face and narrowed her eyes, sensing the contrary truth behind his words. "No, it's fine. He has time right now. Just give him another few minutes with the others."

He nodded and Abbey gestured he should wait by the door. She stepped to the Commissioner who nodded. He gestured for her to follow him and they met up with the Sergeant outside the small room.

"Tony." The commissioner greeted.

"Sir." Renzulli snapped to attention.

Frank grinned warmly, "Good to see you. Been a while."

"Yes, sir." Tony swallowed.

Renzulli shifted his weight and Frank raised a questioning eyebrow, waiting.

"Sir." Renzulli inhaled. "I um, actually have wanted to talk to you for a while now." He glanced around, "Just was never sure how to start."

Frank's lips flattened and he looked down a beat. "This about Joe?"

Tony swallowed, "Sir. I'm sorry. It's just, as his field training officer I feel..." He looked down, "A certain amount of responsibility."

Frank nodded. "I can understand that." He replied quietly, looking up to meet Tony's eyes, "As his father, I too feel a certain amount of responsibility." He swallowed, "But neither of us are responsible. It was the low life that pulled the trigger."

Anthony broke eye contact and took a shaky breath, "I just keep thinking that there was something else I could of taught him, something I could of showed him, y'know?"

"Have you thought of anything specific?" Frank tilted his head, "It's been 10 months."

Renzulli looked down, "No, Sir. Not specific. But..." He looked up, "Little things. I think, maybe, usually, I've let the officer's I trained stay optimistic too long."

Frank raised his eyebrows, "That's a dark way to put it."

"Maybe." Tony nodded, "But maybe if, from the start, Joe felt like he had to mistrust every corner..." He looked down.

"Tony..." Frank pursed his lips and looked down, "That my son maintained a glimmer of optimism about this city despite his service is something I admired about him." He looked away, "Even envied." He muttered. He exhaled and made eye contact again, "He was like his mother that way; loved this city and always believed the best in it. You couldn't have taken that away from him if you tried." He nodded affirmatively, "I'm glad he worked with you. You were a good T.O."

"I can do better." Tony shot back.

"You're a sergeant now." He shrugged, "You won't likely be in the wheel for TO assignments."

Tony took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, "I don't have the right to ask sir, but I'd like to fulfill that role at least once more."

Frank's brow furrowed and he tilted his head, waiting for explanation. When the Sergeant didn't offer any Frank glanced to Abbey.

She looked back at him, raised eyebrows trying to communicate her suspicion.

He looked back to the man in front of him, "Jamie?"

Tony bit the inside of his lip, "Sir. I know I don't have the right to ask. And I know that you aren't in the business of assigning Field Training Officers. I just..." He looked around, "If Cadet Reagan ends up at the 12th I would like to put myself up as his TO." He exhaled, "I feel I owe it to Joe...and to you, sir."

Frank took a deep breath, eyes unfocused in thought as Anthony shifted.

"I hear he's doing gangbusters at the Academy." He offered with a tilt of his shoulder.

Frank straightened, "And how'd you hear that?"

The Sergeant shrugged, "Lieutenant Nolan used to be my Sergeant. We got together for St. Patrick's day last week. He said he's tops of the class in most respects. Really knows how to keep his head."

Frank took a deep breath, lips firmly pursed together. "You know, _I_ was in the 12th back when I was walking a beat." He observed seemingly randomly.

Tony blinked, "Um. Yeah. Joe mentioned. He was real proud of that."

Frank gave a small smile. "I wasn't sure he remembered."

"He did." Anthony nodded.

Frank looked away, contemplative for a moment. He snapped back, "Danny also did a few tours there when he first got his gold shield."

"I remember _that_." Anthony nodded with a bemused smirk.

Frank grinned in return, sticking his hands in his pockets. He nodded, "You're right. I am not in the business of any assignments regarding cadets; however, it seems that the 12th precinct has become a bit of a Reagan family tradition." He took in a deep breath, "And, if Jamie ends up there, I would take great comfort in having you as his TO."

Renzulli released a shaky breath, nodding. "Thank you, sir."

"Thank you...Sergeant." Frank gave him a tight lipped smile.

The new sergeant snapped to attention and saluted.

Frank's smile twitched and he returned the salute. "Get back to your wife, Tony. Enjoy your day."

"Thank you, sir." Renzulli nodded.

Frank's hands returned to his pockets and his smile faded as the sergeant disappeared back into the reception.

Abbey took a deep breath, watching him carefully, "You didn't know, sir?"

"Know about what?" Garrett asked, coming around the corner.

Frank rolled his eyes but Abbey smiled, "Jamie's doing well at the Academy."

"Oh yeah." Garrett nodded, "The quote I heard was literally, 'Best Reagan yet.'"

Frank turned wide eyes to his DCPI, "And _how_ do _you_ know that?"

Garrett raised his eyebrows, "Oh, come on Frank. Of course I've been keeping tabs." He tilted his head and softened his tone, "The real question is how did you not know?"

Frank huffed, "Let's get back to the office."

Abbey and Garrett exchanged silent glances but followed the Commissioner as he stalked up the short stairs and into his office.

"Frank?" Garrett pushed again.

Frank didn't turn around, keeping his back to them and the door. He exhaled through his nose and winced. "All I know is he has a black eye."

"What? Like a reprimand?" Garrett stepped forward.

"No, an actual black eye." Frank turned around, rubbing at his temple with his fingers, "He showed up to Sunday dinner with a black eye and bruising on his knuckles. I think he was in a fight."

Abbey glanced to Garrett, mimicking his step forward, "It could have just been training." She shrugged, "Some of the new hand to hand techniques are rough."

"Could be." Frank muttered, moving to sit in one of the arm chairs.

"He didn't tell you?" Garrett sat on the couch.

"Nope." Frank shook his head, looking away.

"And you didn't ask." Garrett guessed.

Frank shrugged, "I gave him opportunity to explain it but, no, I didn't ask straight out." He fiddled with his ring, "I want to give him space to figure out how this is going to work between us."

"So far that's been him not telling you he's doing really well and not explaining a black eye?" Garrett speculated.

Frank shrugged again, "He's never been one to brag so I imagine he's waiting to let the shield speak for itself and won't be telling anyone about his class ranking. And he's always held things close to the vest, especially when he struggles." He shrugged, "Some youngest child side effect I guess..but..." He winced, "I can't help the feeling that he didn't explain the black eye because it's some how related to this family."

"Frank...What sense does that make?" Garrett dismissed but the Commissioner looked over to Baker who kept her mouth tightly shut.

"Baker knows." He gave a gentle nod.

She sighed and looked down, "Sir, the ranks respect you."

"I'm not talking about me." He pinned her with his eyes, "I'm talking about anyone who comes into the Academy as anything but anonymous."

Abbey looked down. She knew the truth of what he was saying but she didn't have the heart to confirm it for him.

He gave a nod, "I'll be honest, I _know_ that the Academy holds some of the last vestiges of the bad old days." He looked up, "It's harder for women and minorities and anyone who the group in general deems as being 'too privileged' be it by money or education or hook." He rubbed his hands together, "I haven't done anything about it because so far the system works. People who can't stand the heat leave before they hit the streets and those who get through it usually end up being top notch cops who out perform those who had an easier time of it."

"Seems awfully Byzantine." Garrett muttered.

Abbey shook her head, "It takes a bit of grinding to ensure everyone bleeds blue."

Frank glanced to her, eyebrow raised, "So you don't resent that the brass allowed whatever extra pressure it is you felt as a woman going through?"

Abbey glanced at her hands and leaned back against the chair, "Well, it's not like it was out and out harassment. Tough language, comments aimed to get under my skin, some antagonism and extra PT demands were worth it so that every other cop I graduated with knew I could handle whatever was thrown at me. They knew what I'd defend if needed and they could trust me to hold ground regardless of the situation and because of that respect I could trust all of them to have my back if I needed it."

Frank nodded slowly.

"Sir," She continued, "It may be possible, even likely that Jamie got into a scuffle because of his last name. But he's going to come out of there with every officer knowing what he's made of and what he stands for."

Frank was still for a long moment, contemplatively looking back at Abbey. "Well," He tilted his head, "It's certainly not Harvard."

Abbey smiled, "No sir."

"Okay." He dropped his hands to his knees, "So no more worrying about my youngest."

"Fat chance." Garrett muttered.

Frank shot him a glare, "But maybe we might let it be known down the line that the Reagan men have a history with the 12th?"

"I think that's something Chief Hines might find interesting." Abbey suggested gently. "He has a respect for tradition."

"And getting things done gently." Frank nodded, "Thank you."

Garrett shook his head, "If people only knew how well you work the puppet strings."

"That's not what's happening here." Frank glowered, "This is just one..." He sighed, "Just...If I know I can trust his TO then it will be easier for me to back off his first year on the job."

Garrett nodded without comment.

Frank exhaled and looked back to Baker, "What's next? How much is left on your desk?"

"Sir?" She looked back quizzically.

"Your desk. As in, what is stacked in your inbox?" He smirked, "Unless you plan on leaving for your honeymoon with an unfinished to do list?"

"Oh!" She blushed, "Um, well, there isn't too much left sir. Absolutely manageable by Friday."

"Getting nervous yet, Detective?" Garrett grinned.

She rolled her eyes, "Not in the least. I'm just looking forward to the planning to be over."

Frank grinned warmly, "Running this office and planning a wedding; that's some super human organizing."

She felt the blush color her cheek at the compliment but shook her head, "Honestly I gave most of it to Brian. It's his mother who is all up in arms about the particulars. I just want to say my vows and eat some indulgent food before getting on a plane."

"And when you return, what shall we call you?" Garrett asked, "Detective Delucia?"

Abbey winced causing both of the older men to look at one another, amused.

"Not quite there yet?" Frank asked.

She shifted, feeling uncomfortable, "I'll be making the legal name change but..." She looked down to the dress blues she was still wearing and the shiny name plate with 'BAKER' etched into it. "I think I would like to stay 'Baker' at work. It's who I am."

Frank's grin softened, "I think I can understand that."

Garrett nodded, "Me too. I don't think I could change my name; too much tied up in it."

"Well, lord knows I'd still be calling you Baker half the time anyway." Frank grinned, "I was still introducing Danny as Officer a year after he was promoted."

Abbey grinned, "I'm sure he loved that."

"Yeah." Frank shrugged it off with an amused huff.

"Well, I'll tell you one thing, Detective _Baker_ ," Garrett smirked "I'm really looking forward to the wedding."

She looked back to him, "Oh?"

"Yeah, I can't wait to see a formal reception where our boss here isn't making a beeline for the exit." He grinned.

Frank glared back at him, "A - this isn't about me and B - I love parties; as long as there are no politicians or anyone with their hand out."

Abbey smiled, "Well I can promise you sir, no politicians on Saturday. Just a few slightly neurotic Long Islanders."

"Perfect." He glanced to Garrett, "But that reminds me; this thing tonight, Garrett?"

"It's for the Governor!" Garrett gestured widely.

"And last I checked I don't work for him." Frank stood from the chair and moved to his desk.

Abbey grinned as Garrett sputtered, "That doesn't mean you can stand him up!"

Frank sighed, "I wasn't suggesting that." He shuffled some paper, "Just want to agree on an exit strategy is all."

Garrett rolled his eyes, "This is an arts and culture reception Frank. No fundraising, just show up, smile, eat free food, drink free booze and represent the friendly NYPD who keeps us safe so we can _have_ arts and culture."

"For how long?" Frank looked up expectantly.

"For how long what?" Garrett sighed.

"How long do I need to stay there?"

Garrett shook his head, looking to Abbey for back up. She just smiled and shrugged.

He rolled his eyes, "5 minutes after you shake hands with Governor."

Frank nodded, " _That_ I can manage."

* * *

The next morning Abbey was going through the OCCB report when Garrett approached the desk, coffee in hand and a large yawn.

Abbey smiled, "Stay out late did you?"

He blinked his eyes open and nodded, "You could say that."

"What happened to 5 minutes after the hand shake?" She looked back at the file, she had opened.

"I honestly don't know." Garrett shook his head. "The boss stayed well past 11 until at some point he ditched without letting me know."

Abbey looked up, "Really?"

" _Really_." Garrett nodded, "I had to take a cab."

She frowned a moment, thinking over the uncharacteristic behavior. She shrugged, "Between his father's hip surgery coming up and Erin's divorce he's got any number of things that would have had him heading home without notice."

"Yeah, that's what I figured." Garrett nodded, "Not that I'm complaining. It was a good time."

Abbey just nodded, returning her focus to work.

"Yep." Garrett continued on, despite her apparent lack of interest, "Real good party. A few movers and shakers were there. Frank was oddly pleased to meet Will Shortz, the crossword guy from the Times?"

Abbey smiled in amusement.

"Not exactly my thing." Garrett shrugged, "But I'll tell you who _was_ a treat, Melanie Maines."

Abbey looked up at the expectant pause. "Who?"

Garrett sighed, "The investigative reporter from CNN? Does those specials on Sundays?"

"Oh!" Abbey nodded as the connection clicked, "She did that piece on Bear Sterns last month."

"Yeah, her." Garrett grinned, "Very smart, very charming women in person. She even managed a smile out of the Commissioner."

"He can be very amicable when he wants to be." Abbey defended her boss.

"Yeah, right." Garrett shot down her defense with a grin. "Anyway, I'm heading in." He gestured to the office door.

Abbey shook her head, "He's not in there."

"What?" Garrett looked at his watch, "It's almost 9."

Abbey shrugged, "I know."

Garrett glanced around, concerned, "Have you heard from him? Maybe something did go wrong. Henry's surgery isn't until next month, right?"

Abbey held up a hand, "He called, he said he was running late; but he sounded fine."

At that moment both Abbey and Garrett were distracted by an unexpected sound.

The upbeat whistling grew clearer as Frank came around the corner and nodded to them both.

Garrett was the first to speak, "Frank...are you whistling?"

The Commissioner halted, "Was I?"

Wide eyed, Abbey gave a stilted nod, "You were..."

He shrugged, "Well I guess it's just a beautiful morning."

Garrett glanced to Abbey and back to their boss, "Frank...it's a damp, grey, 45 degree morning."

Frank rolled his eyes, "Why don't you just _try_ to not be so dour all the time?"

Abbey tucked her chin to hide the grin splitting her face.

"A bit of the pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?" Garrett retorted.

"Hey," Frank gestured, "You're the one accusing me of being too generous calling it a nice morning."

Garrett's eyes narrowed, "Frank...where'd you go when you left last night?"

The Commissioner stilled and Abbey peeked up and grinned as the Commissioner suddenly seemed uncomfortable.

"I just left." He finally settled.

"So I noticed." Garrett commented. "What I didn't notice was exactly when or _with whom_."

Franks eyebrows rose and he pursed his lips, glaring back at Garrett. "You really know how to kill a good mood, you know that?"

"So I've been told." Garrett grinned.

Frank turned to Abbey, "Detective?"

"Sir." She handed him the daily folder, "I finished the gang unit report you'll need; it's on your desk."

"Thank you." He nodded, sidestepping Garrett and disappearing into his office.

Garrett shook his head, "Anyway..." He paused, blinked and looked to the closed door. Then without excusing himself he straightened, turned away from Abbey and entered the office. All Baker could hear as the door swung shut was "You never answered my question!"


	19. Progeny

_A/N - Yay! Finally made it to the first season! (That took WAY longer than I thought - thank you so much for all your kind words and follows) I won't be tagging every episode but will cite which ones are referenced and I will be ignoring things that become inconsistent (like the set up of Frank's office)._

 _This chapter follows Episode 1.1 and the second part takes place in between the last few scenes of Episode 1.4._

* * *

Abbey smiled at the newspaper clipping covering last week's Academy graduation. At the bottom of the page was a picture of the Commissioner smiling proudly as he greeted Jamie on the sidewalk. She marked the page and folded the paper.

"Baker." The intercom came to life.

She picked up the report she had compiled earlier in the day and entered the office.

She ignored the brass in the room, staying focused on the Commissioner. She couldn't tell if he was more exhausted or miserable; regardless he was doing a poor job of covering his disdain for the meeting he was currently overseeing.

He gestured to her to keep hold of the folder. "Detective, why don't you give us a synopsis of what you've compiled."

She blinked once, trying to not look aghast in the face of the Chief of Detectives, Head of IAB, Chief of Department, Chief of Personnel and the first Deputy Commissioner who were all there in addition to the DCPI.

Frank gave her a subtle nod of encouragement and she straightened and looked around the room.

"We've been working to collect statistics from other city departments nationwide and with independent agencies such as the CATO institute regarding accusations of excessive force; how many have legitimate basis and how many are falsely brought by suspects trying to leverage lenience or in retaliation."

She took a deep breath, gauging the interest in the room, "The numbers show a vast majority of incidents either fall below the level of warranting criminal complaint or legal action, 61% in fact. Of the 61% we can only rely on anecdotal evidence to know which incidents still yielded departmental consequences and if those consequences were the result of needing to cater to public concerns about a case."

"The public's concern should not impact how we deal with our officers!" Vincenzo interrupted.

"We work _for_ the public, Mike." Frank retorted, holding up a placating hand. "Their trust is important."

The First Deputy shook his head. "I'm sorry, last I checked it was _your_ son whose ass you seem so willing to hang out to dry."

Frank narrowed his eyes, "I don't care _what_ the detective's last name is. If you compromise a case because of how you handle a suspect then that is something that needs to be looked at and, if, as a department, we see a pattern, we need to come up with a solution." He sighed, "When guilty people are allowed back on the street because our officers cross the line then no one wins." He scowled and looked away, "And if we look the other way and allow it to happen then it's our screw up. The people in this room." He punctuated his words by angrily tapping on the desk.

Franklin from IA leaned forward, "Of course we agree, Boss." He glanced to the other officers, "But there is something to be said about taking each case individually."

Frank raised his eyebrows,

"I know that Bello from my office spoke with you about this particular detective in the past." Franklin winced at the Commissioner's glare, "But given time those issues resolved themselves."

"Apparently not." Frank muttered.

"Sir," Chief Hines spoke up, "The point is that that Detective Reagan, while working under a time clock, got that little girl home safe to her family and despite the compromised case, good detective work allowed him to close a murder that had been open for nearly 5 years."

The Commissioner grimaced, "Ed, you telling me you want him in your bureau?"

"It can't be denied that he is an asset." He shrugged. "In fact, with Carver getting promoted we have a spot I need to fill with major crimes out of the 54th."

Frank stared back at his Chief of Detectives for a long moment. He released a short huff, "Well I can't have any real input on _that_. I shouldn't even be involved with this particular case." He looked around the room, "If you're all satisfied...?"

There were nods.

"Alright." He nodded, "Then we're putting the Campos case away." He closed the folder and gestured to Franklin, "However, tell Bello and whomever else has been making excuses for habitual offenders that it shouldn't have to reach my desk before someone is assigned to a desk at Erie Basin."

"Sir." The IAB Chief nodded.

"And," Frank continued, "You're all going to find a copy of Baker's report in your inboxes by tomorrow. I want you to read it and share it with the appropriate personnel. Between the internet and camera phones we're going to be dealing more and more with the perception of police behavior being scrutinized by every Tom, Dick and Harry out there. We need to work on solutions that support our people while still staying ahead of what ever sensationalized issues get drummed up."

"Sir." "Got it Boss." "Of course Frank." "Right."

Satisfied, the Commissioner gave a final nod to the group. "Alright. Dismissed."

Abbey took a step back and watched most of the group filter out of the room until it was just her and Garrett left with the Commissioner.

He shook his head, "This job sucks sometimes, you know that?"

Garrett held his folders close to his chest, "You did exactly the right thing here."

Frank snorted. He looked to Abbey, "Good work on that. I'm sorry for not giving you a proper heads up."

"It's fine, sir. I was just a little surprised." She shrugged, concealing her pleasure.

"You can get that report to everyone before you leave tonight?"

"Of course, sir." She nodded.

Garrett glanced at his watch, "Any interest in drinks tonight, Frank?"

He looked at his own watch, "Um, no, not tonight." He glanced up, "I have another commitment."

"Again?" Garrett's eyebrows rose knowingly as he smirked.

"We're done." Frank ground out, returning his attention to the work on his desk.

"Whatever you say, Boss..." Garrett snickered as he followed Abbey out the door.

"Garrett..." She paused the DCPI as he walked by. She reached over to her desk and, glancing at the paper, made a quick note on a pad and handed it over to the DCPI, "Can you get me the contact information for this photographer from the post?"

He glanced at the note, "I can..." He looked to her, "If you tell me where it is our boss is headed tonight...?"

She crossed her arms and glared at him, "Not that I know, but even if I did I wouldn't tell you."

Garrett narrowed his eyes dubiously. "Alright. Fine." He held up the note, "Yeah I know him. I'll get you his email."

* * *

A few weeks later Abbey noted that the Commissioner's office was dark as she returned to her desk from a meeting with the rest of the Commissioner's squad.

She smiled and pulled the small, wrapped package out of her desk drawer and stepped into the office.

"Baker."

His voice was quiet and she nearly jumped in surprise at the simple greeting.

She turned around. "Sir." She greeted evenly, holding her hands and the package behind her back.

He was on the leather sofa, uncharacteristically with his feet up. He was still in his dress blues from the morning's funeral, the jacket opened and tie loose. His hat was on the table next to the incident report of the afternoon's take down of Dukajan Kola. A glass of amber liquid was in his hand but the bottle was nowhere to be seen.

His whole being reverberated with exhaustion and defeat.

Unable to contain her concern, she tilted her head, "Is everything okay?"

"Cop was killed." He answered plainly.

She looked down, closing her eyes a moment. When she looked back up she tried to transmit the empathy she was feeling but was unable to articulate. "You were very moving at the funeral this morning."

"Nothing I said could have made a difference to her family." He muttered, looking down to his glass.

Abbey stepped closer, hesitating on her words, "I think it was evident you made an impact on her little boy."

He snorted and took a sip from his drink.

She swallowed and looked around the room. "I would have expected DCPI Moore to be here."

"He offered." He shrugged, "But he's not a cop. There are somethings he doesn't really understand." Frank shook his head. "And he's a good enough man to know that."

Abbey bit the inside of her lip until the Commissioner looked up at her, "But you get it." He gestured, "The loss of a fellow cop."

She took a heavy sigh and small shake of her head, "It's always like family."

Frank nodded.

He raised his eyebrows, "You want a drink?"

She gave a small appreciative smile, "Thank you, but not tonight."

He sighed and put the glass down. Swinging his feet off the sofa he sat forward, elbows on his knees and picked up the incident report folder, "You read this?"

She nodded, "I did."

"You have any problems with it?" He looked at her, expectantly.

She knit her brow and tilted her head, "With what sir?"

Frank grimaced and glanced through the papers, "Anything from the lead detective? How they gained access to the car? How they got Ricky to give up Kola's location?"

Abbey frowned, "I didn't see any of those details."

"That's because they aren't there." Frank looked at her knowingly.

"Ah." She gave a single nod. She took a deep breath, thinking. "Is anyone asking questions?"

He sighed and leaned back, "So far? Just me."

She shifted her stance, "May I ask why?"

"There are no details." He gestured to the folder and shrugged, "Police work this successful is usually laid out in agonizing detail. Bragged about, even." He sighed and looked away, "And when I called the Detective in question he hurried off the phone." He made eye contact with Abbey, "He has a hell of a poker face but good cops make lousy liars and he knows he's no exception."

Abbey pursed her lips and looked down. There was quiet between the two of them for a long time as she tried to fit the right words together.

"Sir. Ricky Vintano's arrest picture doesn't show any signs of a physical altercation." She locked eyes with the Commissioner, "And Officer Martin's killer was found and dispatched within only a few days." She shook her head, "I don't think anyone will be looking too closely at _how_ it was accomplished." She gave a resolute nod, "Most of us are just thankful to Detective Reagan for getting justice for Michelle by closing the case."

He frowned and she shifted. "Maybe, sir, for this case, it's okay to keep your hunch to yourself."

He looked up, meeting her eyes. "You think?"

She nodded, "I do."

He took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose, Contemplatively looking back at the folder.

"I'll tell you what though," He broke the silence, "ESU needs to work on their target practice."

"Sir?" She tilted her head at the non sequitur.

He held up a page from the report, "Kola was hit approximately 20 times. He came out ready to fire, against a hyped up full squad armed with rifles; I am willing to bet far more than 20 rounds were shot." He smirked.

Abbey's raised her eyebrows, "You're not concerned about excessive force?"

He shrugged, "I suppose publicly I should be." He looked up, "But you, yourself inferred this is a special case."

She smiled, "I was in the academy with someone in that squad. If you don't mind I'd like to let him know the Commissioner says to get back to the target range."

Frank grinned appreciatively.

He looked away nodding to himself but when he looked back again it was grave seriousness, "When a cop goes down, no holds barred."

He looked away, "At least my old man and I agree on _that_ much."

She elected not to comment on that particular recrimination, swallowing her smirk. "Well sir." She took a beat, "Have a good weekend. I will see you on Monday."

His eyebrows arched, "You're not going to give it to me?"

"Sir?" She hesitated.

"Whatever it is you have behind your back." He gestured, standing up.

She sighed and cast about for an escape. "I'm sorry, Sir. I hadn't realized you were still here. I was just going to leave it on your desk."

He tucked his hands in his pockets and rocked on his feet, "Well I _am_ here." He gave a wry smile, "That means I don't get to have it or..."

She didn't move for a beat but relented with a sigh bringing her hands to the front and offering the small package to him.

He pursed his lips, accepting it with curiosity, "What's this for?"

"It's not _for_ anything." She explained looking down, shifting her feet. She looked back up, "Just thought you might like it."

He sat back down and flicked on the light on the end table before carefully undoing the wrap and revealing two framed photos.

"I saw the one of you and Jamie with an article about last month's graduation. I thought you or he might like a good color print." She explained as he examined them closely. "When I told the photographer why I was asking he sent along the one of you and the former Commissioner as well." She gestured to the second photo of the father and son side by side in their blues and matching collar stars.

Frank didn't say anything as he looked over the photos, mouth in a gentle frown and eyes soft.

After a long, inscrutable minute he blinked and looked wistfully up at her, "Mary was always the one making sure someone had a camera for the important occasions." He looked back at the picture where he and Jamie were smiling openly at one another; filled with pride. "I didn't even think to ask that day."

He blinked rapidly and nodded, "Thank you, very much for these."

Pleased but uncomfortable with the moment Abbey nodded gently in return, "It just seemed like the kind of picture that someone would want to have."

"It absolutely is." He took a deep breath and smiled, "This one is too." He gestured to the one of him and his father, "Even if I'm still annoyed at him for messing in the case."

She shrugged with a sympathetic smile, "You _did_ just say, 'no holds barred.'"

"I did." He nodded, "And I get why he did it." He sighed, "Doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on him yet."

She grinned as he arranged the pictures on the small table. "I'll have to figure out the best place to put these." He looked around the office, "When there is a week like this one..." He sighed and gave a definitive nod, "It will be nice to have them close."

Abbey tucked her head, "Well. Hopefully there won't be another week like this one for a long time."

"God willing." Frank agreed quietly.

She smiled gently and moved to the door, "Good night Commissioner."

"Good night Detective." He nodded, his attention still focused on the two pictures.

* * *

 _A/N - Screen shots from a few episodes are used as background pictures in various scenes. These two seem to pop up a lot and got me to thinking about possible background for them!_


	20. Intuition

_A/N - Takes place end of episode 1.9. A *minor* reference to 1.8._

* * *

"I am going out." The Commissioner readjusted his tie as he approached her desk, "I'll be back." He glanced at his watch, "But I expect you to go home before I am."

She smiled appreciatively, but gestured to the papers on her desk, "I still have a bit to clean up."

He pursed his lips, evaluating the stacks on her desk, "Meant to say, you did well, building the case against Councilwoman Collins."

"It's been a while since I've been credited with a collar." She smiled. "And never anyone like a councilwoman."

He grinned but his eyes were serious, "You miss it? Tracking a case, making an arrest?"

She averted her eyes, looking over her desk. "Some days." She admitted.

He fiddled with his thumb, "You considering getting back out there?"

She looked up sharply, "No, sir."

"No?" He raised his eyebrows.

She hesitated, eyes narrowing, "Do you think I should?"

He shrugged, hands in his pockets. "Depends on where you see yourself heading." He gestured around the office, "I don't need to tell you what I think of the work you do here."

She looked down and willed her cheeks not to blush.

"But, there are some skills of yours that are under utilized." He frowned, "And, this position could be limiting. If you want to move up the ladder, have your own command someday…" He shrugged and looked down. "Just saying."

Abbey nodded, "I know. And I appreciate you saying it, Sir." She gave a small shake of her head, "But I see this position here as an opportunity, not a dead end." She locked eyes, "I'm not looking to go anywhere."

His mustache lifted as he smiled, "Good to hear. Just…" He softened, "Don't be afraid to bring it up if you feel otherwise."

"Thank you, Sir." She looked around, "Is there anything you'd like for me to leave out for you for when you get back?"

He began to shake his head but stalled, narrowing his eyes in thought. "Could you, as quietly as possible, see if you can get your hands on the IA report filed on Officer Reagan last week?"

She raised her eyebrows, "I can do that sir; looking for anything in particular?"

He pursed his lips and shook his head, "I don't think so. It just seemed…thorough. And…" He winced, "Between you and me, the officer in question has been…we'll just say ' _high strung'_ the past few weeks."

"You're concerned." It wasn't a question.

Frank waffled, "More like curious if I should be concerned." He sighed, "Or if I'm just projecting."

Abbey thinned her lips, and nodded, "I can get you that report without making waves."

"Thank you." He smiled again. "If you need me I'll be across the street."

"Dinner with Erin?"

"Yeah. Talk about high strung." He huffed, accentuated with a shake of his head, "The Dick Reed case has half the family on edge."

"Not to mention half the city" She lobbed back.

Frank conceded with a bob of his eyebrows, "That too." He winced and gestured to the door, "Well, I'm going to head over. Make sure you get home soon."

Abbey nodded and returned her focus to the work in front of her as he continued out the door.

Half an hour later she was putting the final folder away in the cabinet when Garrett came hustling in to the room.

He halted at the quiet scene, looking back and forth across the mostly empty office.

"Do you have _any_ answers as to what the heck just happened?"

She stood up, looking around, "About what…." She narrowed her eyes.

Garrett held up his phone where an app was playing a stream of the NYPD radio. "The shooting?!"

Abbey shook her head, "Garrett, I really don't know what you're talking about and the Commissioner isn't here."

"I _know_." Garrett ground out, rolling his eyes before stilling and taking a centering breath.

Abbey tilted her head, and furrowed her brow, "Garrett. What happened?"

He cast about, stymied, "Honestly? I don't know. The call over the radio was very unclear."

"About what?" She prodded again, getting impatient.

Garrett sighed and muted the streaming audio on his phone. "I had the scanner on in the background so I missed the beginning but something about a 9-1-1 call from District Attorney Offices." He grimaced, "There was a shooting or something and it sounds like Frank was involved."

Abbey's eyes went wide and her face slacked, "Is he okay?"

"This is what I'm saying." Garret reemphasized, "I don't know. They took the incident off the open radio after the initial report."

Abbey turned for her coat while Garrett continued to speak, "I don't even know in what capacity he was involved; He may have just been a witness, the one calling it in or been the one doing the shooting for all I know."

She paused and glanced at her computer.

"You said there was a 9-1-1 call?" She put down her coat.

Garrett nodded.

"I can get it." She deftly maneuvered to the emergency services network and logged in as the Commissioner.

Garrett looked over her shoulder and raised his eyebrows as she scanned down the list of 9-1-1 incoming calls for the past 30 minutes, "I didn't realize you could do that."

She winced, "Special circumstances."

Her mouse hovered over a recently closed entry with a familiar cell phone number.

"Well, the good news is that he is the one who called 9-1-1."

"Or it was just someone using his phone." Garrett speculated. Abbey turned to glare him.

"Sorry." He held up his hands, looking abashed, "Can you play the recording?"

She nodded, downloading and opening the file.

 _-"9-1-1 what's your emergency?"_

 _-"This is Police Commissioner Frank Reagan, I am in the North Stairwell on the third floor of the Manhattan District Attorney's offices. Someone is being attacked, I need PD on scene forthwith and a bus."_

 _-"Sir, NYPD are being notified of your location. Can you clarify what you mean by someone being attacked?"_

 _-A muffled scream was heard._

 _-"That's Erin. I am…"_

 _-"Sir, police are on the way, please don't…"_

 _-"I_ _ **am**_ _police and I'm already here. I am going to put my phone in my pocket, keeping the line open. Don't hang up."_

 _-"Sir, you should not…"_

 _-A door creaked open and a woman's muffled screams became louder and clearer._

 _-There was also the sound of a man's voice though his words were unintelligible._

 _-The 9-1-1 operator's voice could be heard away from her headset, requesting a supervisor._

 _-The female's voice became clearer, obviously Erin Reagan in distress._

 _-"Get your hands off my daughter."_

 _-Franks' voice was sudden and carried deadly authority._

 _-The other male voice reacted with a surprised shout as Erin continued to struggle._

 _-The voice could be heard clearly for the first time over Erin's whimpers,_

 _-"Go ahead. You just try it.."_

 _- **BANG** -_

 _-A single gunshot rang out._

 _-"Oh!" Erin shouted over the sound of someone falling to the ground._

 _-She continued to cry but neither Frank's nor the other male voice could be heard._

Abbey looked to Garrett who looked back, wide eyed, until,

 _-"Sweetheart. Hey, you okay?" Frank's voice came through._

 _-"Yeah." Erin cried and fabric rustled across the phone's mic._

 _-"Shh. It's okay." Frank's voice was heard, soothing. "It's okay. I've got you…Come here, let's move over this way. Get away from him." More rustling, "Here we go. Right here. I have you, it's okay. Look at me? Erin, honey."_

 _-"I'm okay, Dad. I'm okay." Erin whimpered again._

 _-"Alright. Hold on a second okay?" Fabric rustled and when Frank spoke again it was clearly in to the phone,_

 _-"You still there?"_

 _-"Sir this is 9-1-1 Operator Hannum. NYPD have just arrived on scene."_

 _-"Good. We are in the 3_ _rd_ _floor elevator lobby. I've shot the assailant; male known as Richard Reed. He is down the hall."_

 _-New voices came into the background._

 _-"And ESU has arrived on scene." Frank reported to the dispatcher, "Thank you for your assistance Operator Hannum."_

The line clicked and the recording ended.

Abbey let out a long, uneven breath and looked to Garrett whose jaw was hanging open. He stepped back and pulled on his suit jacket.

"Well." He released a long sigh. "Thank God."

"Yeah." Abbey closed the network connection with a shaking hand.

"Given what went over the radio there will be press down at the DA offices." Garrett grimaced. "I should go over. Join me?"

Abbey gave a stiff nod and picked up her coat from where she left it.

They arrived at the North Entrance of the District Attorney's offices to a scene of RMPs, unmarked sedans and an ambulance.

Garrett gestured with his chin to a small scrum of reporters being held back by police tape, "I'm going over there."

She nodded, "I am going to talk to Nucifero, I just saw him."

Garrett nodded and they parted ways.

She made her way past the perimeter and approached the grey haired detective who was standing next to the black SUV, which he had pulled right up to the door.

"Jim?" She asked, arms crossed.

"Baker." He turned with surprise. "I don't know what happened yet. ESU is still up there."

She nodded, "I know. I heard the 9-1-1 tape."

Jim looked back at her silently waiting, jaw clenched.

"As far as one can tell from the tape, Dick Reed was attacking ADA Reagan. The Commissioner shot him. Both he and Erin are okay." She reported calmly.

Other than a minute dip of his chin Jim barely displayed a reaction

Abbey tilted her head, "Now, can you tell me what happened before?"

Jim shrugged, "We were at the restaurant when the Commissioner comes out and says he wants to come pick ADA Reagan up. I drive over and he tells me to park close, he'll be right out."

She tilted her head but said nothing, waiting.

Jim gave a short shrug, "It's the DA's office. A secure building. I stayed with the car."

She shook her head, looking away for a beat. "And where is JT?"

Jim grimaced.

"He wasn't here, right?" She raised an eyebrow.

"He had to bang out early." Jim looked down.

Abbey sighed, "So you _had_ to stay with the car." She shook her head and looked back at Jim, "You can't do every shift and you shouldn't do any detail on your own."

She scowled, "I know I've given JT as much slack as anyone and I've tried to be sympathetic but there is a line."

"I know." Jim nodded.

Abbey blew out a frustrated breath, the door to the building catching her attention as it opened. She glanced back to Jim, "We'll talk about it later." She assured him. He nodded and she returned her attention to the door from which a number of ESU personnel were exiting.

Finally, the figure she was waiting for appeared.

The white sleeves of the Commissioner's dress shirt stood out against the dark uniforms. Erin Reagan was wrapped in her father's suit coat and he held her snuggly against his side with one arm.

They were approached by IA Deputy Chief Flores. The Commissioner immediately handed over his revolver but brushed off the man, continuing to guide Erin to the waiting paramedics.

They offered her a hand to step up and into the ambulance. Frank gestured to a uniform, spoke to him briefly and pointed in the direction of Jim and Abbey. The officer nodded and headed in their direction as Frank pulled himself into the ambulance, shutting the door behind him.

The officer stepped up to Jim, "Are you Detective Nucifero?"

Jim nodded.

"Uh, the Commissioner says he's riding in the bus with the victim and that they'll be headed to Saint Victor's in Brooklyn."

Jim nodded, "10-4."

The officer departed as Garrett arrived. "Well, the vultures have been kept at bay. Anyone seen the boss yet?"

Abbey gestured to the departing ambulance, "He just followed Erin in to the ambulance."

Garrett stilled, eyes widening, "Where are they going? Is she hurt?"

Abbey shook her head, "Just looked like she was shook up. But they're going to St. Vic's; they'll want to check her over."

"And the Commissioner has to go through shooting protocol." Jim reminded.

"Right…" Abbey swallowed, trying to forget her own incident when she had fired her weapon on the job.

"Want a ride?" Jim gestured to the SUV.

"Might as well." Garrett shrugged, gesturing for Abbey to take the front seat.

* * *

When they arrived, a nurse indicated a private room tucked away in the back of the ER. It was more of an alcove than a room and through the open wall Erin could be seen, apparently asleep on the gurney, still wearing her father's suit jacket.

The Commissioner sat in a chair just outside the alcove, sleeve rolled up as a nurse took his blood pressure.

Frank ignored the attention on him, his eyes focused on his daughter, finger resting pensively under his nose.

Abbey and Garrett hung back but Jim walked up and assumed a post at the edge of the room. Frank glanced up, giving an approving nod.

The nurse tutted, writing in his chart, "Blood pressure is pretty high."

Frank slowly tilted his head up to look incredulously at the young man.

"I'd expect so." He replied plainly in a dark tone.

The nurse blinked but wisely chose not to say anything further as he reached for Frank's wrist to take his pulse.

Frank rolled his eyes and returned his focus to Erin.

Quick footsteps approached and Abbey turned to see Danny Reagan scanning the ward anxiously.

"Detective." Abbey hailed him.

He stilled, "Where are they?"

She gestured to the small room. Danny followed her indication and exhaled.

He looked back to Abbey and Garrett, "They okay? Erin?"

"They gave her a light sedative." Frank answered, apparently having finished his own check up and approaching them. He was rolling down his sleeve, tie partially hanging out of his pocket. "She'll be fine. Just a little shaky."

Danny nodded, silently swallowing his relief.

"Good thing you called." Frank said to his son. "It was close."

"I didn't tell you to go over there." Danny pointed out.

Frank shook his head, "Not your words, but something in your tone did." He pursed his lips, "You have good instincts. Saved your sister's life tonight."

Danny looked down and then back up, "It was that close?"

Frank gave a half shrug, "Close enough."

"Reed?" Danny asked.

Frank's eyes darkened, "What would you have done if it were you?"

"Drilled one right between his eyes." Danny replied flippantly.

Frank nodded solemnly, "That's exactly what happened."

Danny froze, "Wait, what?"

Frank grimaced, "Only regret that he went down so fast I didn't have cause to shoot him again." He tensed his fist, "Would have preferred to empty the chambers."

Danny looked back into his father's face unblinkingly.

In the past, there had been times when Abbey struggled to reconcile Danny's simmering passion and coiled anger against his father's cool collection but in that moment she saw exactly where the son's intensity came from.

Danny even seemed to be taken aback. He gave Frank's arm a momentary touch, "But he's dead? And Erin's okay?"

Frank nodded and exhaled; all of his pent up tension seemed to dissipate in a moment, "Yeah. She's okay."

He swallowed and looked down.

"Good work, Dad." Danny endorsed, dispensing a gentle jab to his father's shoulder. Frank gave a halfhearted grin in return and rocked with the touch.

He looked up, eyes stopping on Baker and his DCPI as if seeing them for the first time.

"I thought I told you to go home." He raised his eyebrows to Abbey.

She shrugged, "I thought you were going to dinner."

He gave a tight grin, "Seem to have lost my appetite."

He turned his attention to Garrett, "This out there yet?"

Garrett winced, "The initial call went out over the radio. I had to give some details to the press to clarify some initial confusion."

Frank shook his head, "Life would be easier if the press didn't have police scanners." He muttered.

"Yeah, well Frank, you can't enforce that so this is what we're left with." Garrett rebuked.

Frank dismissed the rebuke with a shift of his head, "What details?"

"The basics." Garrett explained, "That you shot Richard Reed who was in the middle of an attempted assault within the DA's offices."

Frank sighed, "Alright." He looked back to Garrett, "We will need to be careful with public statements for a little while."

He glanced to Abbey, "This needs to be handled by the book which means a full shooting inquiry and IA will conduct interviews with everyone I spoke with tonight."

He looked back to Garrett, "Meaning that none of you can talk about this until it's all wrapped up."

"By which point the press will have moved on to other things." Garrett lamented.

"We can only hope." Frank agreed.

He took a heavy breath and looked back at Erin, flexing and fisting his hands several times. The motion catching his son's attention.

"Hands a little shaky there Pops?" Danny grinned.

Frank glared at his eldest, "It's been a while. Adrenaline spike."

"I just don't know how you shot a perp with shaky hands." Danny teased.

"After, Daniel. After." He shook out his fingers, "Steady as a rock when it mattered."

"Mhrm." Danny smiled.

Frank rolled his eyes dismissively but his retort was interrupted by a surprised shout from down the hall.

"Dad?!" They all turned to see Jamie Reagan in uniform, break stride mid jog. He pulled up to the group looking his father up and down, "You...You're okay?!"

Frank tilted his head, "I am."

Jamie let out a long breath and closed his eyes a beat, visibly working at reigning in his reaction.

"Jamie?" Frank shifted to look his youngest in the eye.

Jamie licked his lips and shook his head, "I'm sorry. I just…" He stopped and caught his breath and started again, "I got in from tour and guys in the station said that you had been shot."

Frank shook his head, "I'm fine."

Garrett gestured, "That was what was unclear on the scanner that I needed to correct with the press."

Frank shot a look to his DCPI, "So we cleared it up with the press but not our own people?"

Garrett winced and Frank turned back to Jamie who continued to explain, "All I know is that Curtis said there was a report over the radio that the PC had been shot and when I tried to find out more all I got was that you were taken here in an ambulance."

"Actually, wait…" He stopped and looked around, "If you're okay, why are you here? And Danny?" He looked over his brother who grimaced and shook his head.

Danny stepped forward, putting an arm around Jamie's shoulders and pointing him toward Erin's room, "She's fine. But she was attacked tonight. Dad stopped it."

Jamie's face paled as he looked at his sister sleeping peacefully on the narrow bed. He looked up to his father, "Attacked?"

"Attempted." Frank clarified.

Jamie swallowed and looked back to Erin, "But she's okay?"

"Not a scratch." He confirmed.

"And the guy who tried?" Jamie asked the question, eyes straight ahead.

"Dead." Frank answered quietly.

Jamie looked to his father for a quiet beat then nodded once, "Good." He turned his attention back to his sleeping sister, "Good."

He inhaled deeply and looked around the group, "I'm sorry I came in all worked up."

Frank grinned, "I took it as a compliment."

Jamie gave a sheepish grin in return, "I didn't know what to think."

Frank sombered and clapped his youngest on the shoulder, "Everything is fine. Okay? You've got enough on your plate; Don't go wasting mental space worrying about your sister or I. We're not the ones most likely to be shot at, got it?"

Jamie nodded, "Got it."

"Good." Frank looked to Danny, "You EoT?"

Danny nodded, "I'm good to stick around."

"Jamie?" Frank caught his eye.

"Yes, sir." He nodded.

Frank smiled fondly. "Okay." He gestured to Jim, "Could you drop off Deputy Commissioner Moore and Detective Baker on your way home?"

"Sir?" Nucifero questioned.

The Commissioner gestured to his sons, "I've got my detail for the rest of the night." He waved a dismissive hand. "You three go home."

"Got it Boss." Jim agreed, heading to the door.

Garrett hesitated, making long eye contact with Frank before silently nodding and turning to leave.

Abbey was about to follow when he halted her, "Baker."

"Sir?"

He scratched behind his ear, wincing in thought, "I, uh, don't know what time I'll be in in the morning. If anyone from IA calls…"

She nodded, "By the book, sir."

He nodded, "That's it."

Unable to stop herself she reached out a light touch to his forearm, "I'm glad Erin's okay."

He swallowed, pursing his lips and nodding. "Me too."

She smiled softly and stepped away without another word.

Casting one last look over her shoulder she watched Jamie and Danny move two additional chairs to the foot of Erin's bed and the three Reagan men settle in to watch over the sleeping attorney.


	21. Onus

_A/N This one goes in and out of a few episodes! Starts at the start of 1.12, references 1.10 &1.11 and the ending takes place in the middle of 1.14._

* * *

Brian leaned against the doorframe as Abbey secured a final bobby pin and shrugged into her blazer. She tugged on the hem, glanced herself over in the mirror and turned.

He held out her coffee thermos but pulled it away with a grin as she reached for it.

"Bri…" She crossed her arms, irked.

"Just, listen to me a second." He straightened, stepping into the bathroom.

She sighed, "Brian, I know. We talked about this last night, and the night before and the night before that."

"Because," He leaned in, putting the coffee on the vanity counter, "Last night you didn't get home until almost 9 and that was the earliest you've been home in nearly 2 weeks."

She looked down. "I know, but I've explained it to you."

"You did." He agreed, "But I still don't understand."

"I don't have time for this." She sighed, grabbing her coffee and pushing past him.

Brian rolled his eyes and spun around following her out of the bedroom. "Abs, honey, I've known you since you and Reagan were in the chief's office; I think I've demonstrated, many times, that I understand the importance of your work and am okay taking a second seat when it's critical."

She stopped at the front closet, pulling out a pair of heels. She looked up to him as she slipped them on, "Yes. You have. And Honey, I appreciate it, I know that's not always easy for you."

He stepped closer, "I'm just saying, that even though I understand and support you, I need you to show me sometimes that _you_ understand that it's not always easy for me." He leaned against the wall, "I didn't marry you so I could sit at home alone every night."

She sighed and looked sadly up at him, "I know. And I didn't marry you thinking that I'd be missing so much time together. I love you and I hate it when there are weeks like this when I'm away so much."

"I know that, babe." He grimaced as he pulled her trench coat out of the closet and handed it to her, "But sometimes your actions belie how much you mean that."

She paused with one arm in the jacket, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"I heard you talking with Nucifero last night." Brian admitted, looking down, hands buried in the pockets of his bathrobe. "You're riding on the security detail now?" He looked up, "You don't already do enough for him?"

Abbey sighed, finishing pulling on her jacket. "It's a complicated situation."

"Explain it to me then." He set his jaw, "Because right now? What I see is that you already put in 10 to 12 hours a day managing the man's office and now you're going to add more time so you can put your life on the line?"

He shook his head, "Look, I get it, I know that you and he have worked together a long time and I know that you have a kind of relationship I'm never going to understand. I can respect that, he seems like a good guy and he's mostly done well by you as a boss; but are you going to tell me that you'd be willing to take a bullet for Frank Reagan?"

She stilled, looking wide eyed at her husband. She took a deep breath and slowly released it. "You know, I would." She shook her head, fastening her buttons. "But that's hardly the point, because I would take a bullet for any other cop."

She looked up, "And you know what? I have no doubt that _he_ would be willing to do the same. It's part of what it means to be NYPD." She shook her head, "Not that it is at all the point."

Brian rolled his eyes, "What is the point then?"

Abbey crossed her arms, "First of all, it's pointless to get worked up over this; it's only temporary since we had to let JT go. Second, it _is_ my job; the detail is under my supervisory umbrella and when it's not working then, as a responsible boss, I need to become more hands on. Finally, I am not going to be dodging bullets; it's the police commissioner, the worst thing he ever faces are the occasional overzealous protester and pushy reporters. The detail isn't the secret service, it's just about enabling him to do his job."

Brian clenched his jaw, glare not softening.

"Look," She sighed, "It's also good for me. If the mayor looses the election next year who knows if the PC will stay on or if the new guy will want someone else on the 14th floor. In that case he'll bring in his own people and I'll be transferred." She turned to grab her bag from the hook, "I need to create some diversity in my duties to make sure I have options in case that happens."

"Bri…" Abbey sighed, "I'm sorry. I know it's been a hard few weeks. It will get better soon. I really promise that."

He bunched his lips and nodded mutely, taking in a deep breath through his nose.

He looked over to her, "You know I only get stressed about this because I love you, right?"

"And I love you too." She smiled.

"And I worry about you." He ducked his chin, "And want the main partner in your life to be me."

"I want it to be you too." She smiled, stepping close. "And I need to be better at making sure you know that."

She reached up to drop a short kiss on his lips.

He smiled, fingers grasping her hips even as she pulled back shaking her head, "Honey…" She warned.

He pouted but let her go, "You'll call me and let me know when you're coming home tonight?"

She smiled, dropping another kiss, "Absolutely. Maybe we can make up for real when I do."

"You can count on it." He smiled, "Even if I have to have a gallon of coffee to stay up that late."

Her playful grin slid into a frown but Brian ignored it, glancing at the clock on the wall, "Now get to work Detective Baker." He smiled gently, giving her a parting kiss on her cheek.

* * *

The morning's argument followed her all through her commute and she was still going over everything that had been said as she arrived at her desk.

She was so distracted that she didn't even realize the Commissioner was already in until he came out of his office.

"Good morning, Baker."

"Sir!" She jumped, looking up from her drawer.

He frowned, "Everything okay?"

"Um, yes, sir." She shook off her surprise, "Just a little delay getting out of the apartment this morning."

Frank nodded with no further comment but she groaned internally as she caught his subtle glance at his watch.

She swallowed her sigh, "Have you been in long?"

He nodded, "Early morning. The son of a Russian Mafia boss, Maximillian Gruschenko was murdered last night in Brooklyn."

Abbey nodded, discreetly making note of the name to look up later.

"You never know what to expect when it comes to the Russians; this could get messy." He commented, almost to himself.

He gestured to her phone, "Get the DC of Brooklyn South down here for a briefing as soon as possible and then come on in for a couple minutes." He ordered and disappeared back in to his office.

Abbey sighed and sunk into her chair. She took a deep cleansing breath, closing her eyes for a beat and exhaling before picking up the phone and dialing Deputy Chief Winston.

* * *

After hanging up with Brooklyn she picked up her pad and entered the office.

"Commissioner?"

"Come on in Baker." He waived her in without looking up.

"Deputy Chief Winston says he should be over here before 10." She reported.

"Good." He nodded. "We're going to be involved with this one." He warned.

She nodded, "Because it's the Russians?"

"That." He agreed, "And, you know I was DC out in Brooklyn South before coming into 1PP. A lot has changed but if any of my experience can help keep a lid on this…" He looked at her with a wary smirk, "Well, you know."

"Yes sir." She shifted a pen, "Is there anything you'd like me to be preparing?"

He shook his head, "We'll wait to hear what Winston has to say."

He looked down, pursing his lips and when he looked up again he took a hesitating breath, "I did mean to tell you…"

He stopped with a wince, "What I wanted to say, was, thank you." He gestured to a folder on the side of his desk, "For hanging with me through the Leo Gates case. I know it was extra hours and extra stress you didn't ask for."

Abbey blinked, "Of course sir. It was no trouble." She swallowed the internal wince as she remembered Brian's frustration.

The Commissioner's lips firmed and he fidgeted with his rings, "I know you had a talk with my Old Man." He paused, looking up. "You expressed some concern."

She shifted under his gaze.

"It's okay." He assured, "I guess I appreciate it."

She looked up, meeting his eyes. "I just hadn't ever seen you take a specific case so personally." She looked to the folder, "But I think I understand it."

Frank nodded slowly, lips lined tightly. "Partly."

"Sir?" She tilted her head.

He sighed and leaned back, "Only partly." He looked away, "I didn't even fully understand it until talking with Pop myself."

She didn't respond, waiting patiently.

He leaned forward, elbows on the desk, "You remember, last month, when I asked if you missed working cases?"

She nodded, "Yes."

He flinched, "I may have been speaking for myself with that."

Abbey's eyebrows arched and Frank grinned self deprecatingly.

He sighed, "I never wanted to work out of this building. After seeing what my father had to deal with…" He shook his head. "I came into the department when there was a lot of trouble. There weren't too many brass deserving of respect. I kept putting in promotions because I thought I could help get the right resources to where they were needed. Somehow, eventually... I ended up where I never thought I'd be."

He frowned, "In truth, my best years were the ones I spent as a detective."

He got up and moved to the window, looking out, "And then I look around and I'm here. Behind the desk that near killed my father." He shook his head, "And having to face someone like Jimmy Burke lying to my face."

He looked down, "I never wanted to be the guy in the remote tower reigning down judgment on other cops." He looked back to Abbey sullenly, "Certainly not former partners."

She nodded slowly, "And then the opportunity came up to close an old case."

He nodded. "Play cop again." He snorted derisively.

Abbey swallowed and blinked, a little overwhelmed by the raw honesty from the Commissioner.

She shook her head, correcting him. "Find answers."

He flashed an appreciative tight grin.

He walked back to stand behind the desk, "Well. Regardless. I know you didn't ask for all that." He gave a one-shouldered shrug, "But I figured you deserved an explanation; especially since you bear the brunt of it when I…take a detour."

She smiled, "I appreciate it."

He sat back down, "But next time…" He took a deep breath and locked eyes, "Feel free to reel me in a little bit."

"Reel you in, sir?" She tilted her head.

He made an ambiguous gesture, "Blowing off the chiefs and the mayor is probably not the best habit to get in to."

She smiled, "Understood, sir."

"Good." He nodded, "That being said, you should probably pull up some of the open files we have on Gruschenko." He raised his eyebrows, "You'll recognize the name of the original detective on a lot of those files."

Abbey tilted her head, "Another detour ahead?"

Frank shook his head, "There is some unfinished business there which I'd be happy to help wrap up." He smirked at her, "But no. No more detours."

She smiled, "Yes, Sir."

She stood to leave.

"Oh, did I read this right?" She turned to see him holding the weekly roster, "You're officially adding yourself into the detail rotation?"

"Temporarily." She explained. "Nucifero and I are doing a review and some restructuring now that JT has been reassigned."

He narrowed his eyes, "You don't have enough on your plate?"

She looked down, sheepish.

"Baker?" He tilted his head.

She looked up, meeting his eyes. "Maybe…you aren't the only one taking a little detour away from your desk job?"

She winced, uncertain of the words even as she said them.

Frank watched her carefully for a long beat before slowly nodding. "Understood, Detective."

"Thank you." She nodded, turning to leave, barely catching it as Frank muttered "Likewise."

* * *

Frank led the way back across the street from the pastry shop. He stopped at the SUV, making a show of standing and waiting for Abbey and Jim to catch up and for Jim to open the door for him.

"Protocol." He snarked, "Can't have the PC opening his own car door you know."

Abbey rolled her eyes and slid into the front passenger seat. She glanced up to the rearview mirror, catching the exasperated look on the Commissioner's face.

He waited for Jim to climb in and start to drive, "You two couldn't just go get a cup of coffee..."

Jim glanced at Abbey and neither replied.

"You know," The Commissioner continued from the back seat, "Not only am I an adult with grown children and everything, I'm actually a decorated police officer, myself." He crossed his arms, "I know that may come as a surprise to you both."

"Sir…" Abbey interrupted.

He ignored her, "I've even had to defend myself in the past, several times, with the gun I still carry right here." He patted his holster.

Abbey let out an impatient huff.

Frank tilted his head, looking into the mirror, "Something to say Detective?"

She bit back her initial retort, settled on simply replying, "Protocol, Sir."

Frank rolled his eyes. "To do something just because it's always been done a certain way is inane."

Abbey pursed her lips in thought.

She turned in her seat to look back at the Commissioner directly.

"Sir, you've been the PC for just about 5 years at this point. Why is it an issue now?"

He held her eyes for a beat, pursed his lips and looked down. When he looked back up it was in Jim's direction.

Abbey raised her eyebrows and looked to Jim as well.

The quiet detective glanced over sensing the eyes on him. He looked up to the mirror to meet the Commissioner's gaze.

Frank looked away, wincing.

He looked back to Abbey, jaw clenched his jaw. "Alright." He admitted in a put upon tone. "When I first became PC it was never an issue because 90% of the time I was just catching a ride between 1PP and the house. Between the workload and the fact that Mary had just passed I pretty much wasn't doing anything else or going anywhere."

Abbey glanced to Jim again and then back to the Commissioner, "But…?"

He grimaced, "But... But more recently I've encouraged some adjustments to strict Detail Protocol."

Abbey frowned, "Meaning?"

Frank exhaled sharply through his nose and he broke eye contact, looking down and then out the window.

"Sir?" Abbey tried again.

He let out a sigh and looked back to her begrudgingly, "Can you imagine how difficult it is to date as a 60 year old public official; even without two guys following you around every where you go?"

Abbey's eyebrows arched even higher and she blinked. And blinked again. "Oh."

Frank huffed a smile, amused at her apparent embarrassment on the topic.

He shrugged, "I talked to the detail. You know, man to man. For a little understanding and space."

Abbey looked back to Jim whose eyes were tensed but hard focused on the road ahead.

"So you relaxed protocol." She surmised for the Commissioner.

He shrugged, "Just for…" he hesitated, "Special occasions. Not often."

He shifted in his seat, "But last summer I was seeing a woman pretty regularly. Someone who also has a little bit of a public profile." He sighed, "In an attempt for discretion the operating standards relaxed even more and more often."

Abbey bit her lip, "Are you still seeing her?"

Frank rolled his eyes but shook his head, "Not for a few months now." He shrugged, "But some of the guys and I may have fallen in to a habit."

He locked eyes with her, "And, I'm still alive believe it or not." He snarked caustically.

Abbey ignored the Commissioner's barb, "That's why you didn't think to make record of it as JT was skipping shifts and leaving the primary alone?" She directed to Jim.

He glanced at her for a beat and she read the admission in his eyes. She sighed.

"So now, strict adherence to protocol is chafing?" Abbey directed to their boss.

He shrugged, "I just don't see the need to act like the Treasury Department. I'm the PC. After a lifetime on the force it feels a little redundant to have such strict protective measures."

Abbey blew out a breath, opening her notebook and scratching out a few lines of notes. "We have been talking about restructuring and evaluating how we operate for over a month now, why wasn't this ever brought up before?"

Frank looked down.

Abbey couldn't contain a frustrated sigh.

"Well…" Frank began.

She looked at him expectantly.

He pursed his lips and winced. "It's embarrassing!"

She froze, looking at him for a long beat. And then, unbidden, she felt the pressure pull at the corner of her lips and her face cracked into a grin, soft laughter escaping.

The Commissioner stared at her. "Are you laughing at me?"

She nodded, "Yes, Sir." She smiled wider, "Sorry, Sir."

Even as he shook his head in disbelief, Franks' own mouth twisted into a wry smile and he released a few amused huffs.

She shook her head and glanced to Jim, "You. I can't believe you didn't say anything to me."

He glanced at her, tight lipped and she blinked.

"Okay, never mind, of course you wouldn't say anything." She acquiesced and the hint of a grin appeared on Nucifero's face.

She shook her head and looked back to the Commissioner, "We have a couple new men being added in next week. We'll take a look at the protocols and clear up what things maybe a little to stringent and where," She paused, "There's room for flexibility in light of special circumstances."

Frank grimaced and looked down.

Abbey straightened in her seat, shaking her head.

After a few more blocks the Commissioner broke the silence, "Maybe," He began, "You should put a draft together this afternoon."

Abbey glanced back at him again, "In a rush, Sir?"

He shook his head, "Me? No."

She narrowed her eyes, waiting.

He shrugged, "Turns out, my granddaughter is a little Valentines mastermind, so I have last minute plans with the family tonight. It's in Chinatown which means, strictly according to protocol, that at least one of you would have to be out as well."

He looked back at her carefully, tilting his head, "And I think, that perhaps you'd have some place else you'd rather be on Valentine's day?"

Abbey glanced to Jim who looked back. He'd never say it but she knew he would want to be with his wife as much as she felt she needed to keep the time she had planned for with Brian.

She sighed, "Danny or Jamie or any other NYPD going to be there?"

"Jamie." The Commissioner confirmed, "And Pop; He's still the best shot of us all." He grinned to himself, "If he can reach the gun out of the damn ankle holster he uses now."

Abbey smiled, "Okay. Detective Nucifero and I will draft some new guidelines when we get back to the office."

Frank nodded, "It's not always easy, is it?"

She looked up, meeting his eyes. She gave him a small shrug, "Easy's overrated."


	22. Sanguine

_A/N Takes place entirely within 1.15; "Dedication"_

* * *

"Sir..." Abbey tried to keep the anxiousness out of her voice.

He turned tired eyes to her, waiting.

Abbey swallowed, her own eyes riveted to the small red spot peeking out from under his vest.

Henry looked up, immediately noticing what had caught Baker's attention.

"Francis," He pushed back his chair, "You've sprung a leak."

Frank raised an eyebrow, following his father's gaze, noticing the small blood stain himself. "Oh." He frowned but made no indication of doing anything about it.

Henry sighed and tapped his son on the shoulder, "Come on. We can take a break from the calls. Let's go upstairs; change the bandages."

Frank nodded, "Alright." He looked to Abbey, "Hold down the fort, Baker."

She nodded, tightening her mouth as she watched the Commissioner grimace and stiffly push himself up, his father following cautiously behind.

Abbey waited for them to leave, pressing her palms hard against to the dark wood surface of the Reagan family dinner table and releasing a long breath.

Feeling the eyes of the others in the room looking at her she closed her laptop and excused herself.

She crossed the kitchen to the small bathroom where she washed her hands.

She rubbed the suds around her fingernails, scrubbing away the memory of the blood that had stained them.

* * *

"Frank...Frank? Frank!" She could hear the Monsignor as she ran around the side of the SUV.

The Commissioner's long time friend was struggling to sit up, hampered by the prone form of the Commissioner who had blood seeping from several lacerations across the back of his shoulder.

"Hold on." She knelt, trying to adjust the Commissioner as gently as possible so as to allow Walter to sit up and move back.

The Commissioner groaned at the movement.

"Sir? Commissioner? Can you hear me?" She forced herself to keep her tone even, in spite of the urgency of the situation.

"Mmhrm." He made an affirmative noise. "Can't..." He huffed, "Can't...move my arm."

She nodded, "Sir, you've been shot." She looked back to see Jim on the radio. "An ambulance will be here soon."

"Mmmhm." He grunted, breath hitching, in pain or in shock she was uncertain.

Gently she reached around his neck to unwrap the dark wool scarf so she could try and feel his pulse. He flinched when her cold fingers brushed his skin but she continued methodically removing the fabric until her fingertip encountered something warm and wet. She pulled back her hand, momentarily awestruck by the red blood. She looked down, noticing for the first time the dark patch and hole in the scarf itself.

At the same time the Monsignor was investigating a patch of blood on his tunic, feeling his own torso then looking wide eyed to his friend, "Detective..." He caught her attention, panic in his voice, "I think there's more."

She looked to the blood on his hand and swallowed, her heart racing as her gut plummeted.

She leaned close, "Sir, you need to get on your side." She gently placed her hand on his shoulder, "I'm going to help, but it will hurt."

"Mrhh." He nodded.

Without bothering with a count or for him to put much of his own effort into it she pulled him up to rest on his right shoulder, her eyes immediately going wide at the wide spread blood staining the front of his jacket.

Making an immediate judgment call that the injuries to his shoulder were secondary, she rolled him all the way to his back as Jim came up behind her.

"Where's it coming from?" He asked immediately.

She shook her head, "Looks like a shot gun spread." She answered, getting to work on the buttons of the overcoat. The Commissioner's right hand came up aimlessly and she batted it away.

"Injuries to the shoulder blade and I think something on the neck too." She took a breath as she heard her voice waver as she pulled open the jacket and opened his blazer the best she could.

Frank winced and shuddered at the sudden cold air.

Blood was spreading across his shirt, pooling and collecting in each layer of fabric; she counted more than a dozen small gashes that stood out against his lightly checkered dress shirt.

"Definitely shot gun." Jim confirmed.

Christopher, the new man they had been training for the detail appeared with the gauze from the car's first aid kit. Abbey sighed and took it from him, it wasn't nearly enough but they needed to slow the bleeding before the ambulance arrived. She began placing it over the various injuries she could find, not bothering to take the time to open his shirt further.

Each wound she covered, the Commissioner shifted under her hand, his breath catching.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I know it must hurt."

He clenched his teeth and gave a sharp nod. She looked up to give him a sympathetic frown. A frown which turned concerned as she noted the unfocused look in his eyes and his irregular, slow blinking.

She looked back down to the injuries on his chest, scanning for anything she might have missed.

In the stillness of the moment she noticed it:

Most of the lacerations were simply seeping blood into the fabric and gauze; but one, right under his collarbone, was pulsing.

Walter saw it the same time she did, "Artery." He breathed, looking at her with dread.

Without thinking she slammed her palm over the torn skin and pressed against it with all she had.

"Gahhhh" The Commissioner gasped breathlessly.

She ignored him, "Jim! ETA on that bus?"

"Two blocks away." He replied moving to the intersection to greet the responders.

"My...eh...gotta..." Frank was trying to speak between pained breaths.

"Sir, shhh. Just be still." She leaned in, not taking pressure off of the pulsing wound. "Please, it's going to be okay."

He blinked, struggling to focus on her, licking his lips as his breathing became more labored. "My Dad." He managed to get out, "Gotta call..."

She nodded, "Sir, I promise I will call your family as soon as the paramedics take over. Okay?"

Even as she spoke the world was painted with flashing lights as the ambulance and several RMPs pulled up.

"Pops." He kept struggling, "Start wi... pops... please."

She nodded, "Okay. I'll call him first."

Frank's eyes drifted closed, "Tell...'ell...Mhm... sr'ry." He muttered. "So...sryy..."

Abbey shook her head, "Nothing to be sorry for. Just keep breathing." She looked over her shoulder at the sound of jogging boots.

Still keeping pressure on his shoulder she shifted to give the paramedics access.

"4 shotgun blasts." She reported. "Some kind of large caliber shot. He has lacerations on the back of his shoulder and the ones here plus one on his neck; I've kept the scarf on that one." She gestured with her chin. "I think this one under my hand may have impacted an artery." She swallowed, "He's been conscious and oriented but slipping."

"Got it, thank you." The first paramedic gestured for his partner to take Abbey's position applying pressure while he flashed a penlight into the Commissioner's pupils before cutting away his shirt and blazer.

Abbey watched them work, stepping back and exhaling shakily.

She knew she should be calling Henry Reagan but she couldn't pull her attention away from the red blood drying on her palms and caking around her fingernails.

* * *

She shook off the memory and shut off the water. Taking a deep breath she looked at herself in the mirror and squared her shoulders.

Henry Reagan entered the kitchen just as she was passing back through. She paused and he gave her a gentle smile.

"He's upstairs." He gave a slight tilt of his head, "He's still pretty tired."

Abbey nodded, "He lost a lot of blood." She replied quietly.

The older man took in a sharp breath and looked down. He grimaced, "Well. He's sleeping now. Which were the doctor's orders to begin with so; miracle of miracles, actually following medical instructions for once in this family."

Abbey gave a tight smile, not quite meeting the former commissioner's humor.

"Hopefully he'll be out a while." Henry amended. "Perhaps most of these folks here would be more productive back at the office?"

She nodded, "I can clear it out. We were trying to anticipate what the Commissioner would want."

"Thank you." Henry nodded, "I think he's realizing that just because he's home doesn't mean he's fit for duty." He sighed, "If we minimize things here he should take better care of himself." He looked at Abbey, "As long as we have you and a phone that should be plenty."

She blinked, "I should stay?"

"Unless you feel you're needed in town." Henry tilted his head.

She shook her head, "To be honest the only reason I'd go in would be to keep an eye on the first Deputy Commissioner."

Henry grinned, "From what I've heard he _needs_ someone to keep an eye on him."

She smiled, "There are plenty keeping him in line." She held up her phone, "I've been getting notes from the rest of the Deputies all afternoon."

"You've got the place wired." Henry complimented.

She shook her head, "Not me. There's a lot of loyalty felt towards the Commissioner."

"But they aren't sending _him_ messages about Vincenzo." He patted her on the shoulder, "Makes you valuable."

He gestured to the dinning room, "Why don't you clean out the extras and I'll put on some coffee."

She smiled fondly at the older man, her gut twisting at the memory of the call she had to make the other night.

* * *

She was in the front seat of the ambulance, the Commissioner's holster, gun, wallet, glasses and phone piled in her lap as she tried to wipe the blood off her fingers and listen to what was happening in the bay of the vehicle.

The paramedics had removed the Commissioner's jackets and shirts and applied pressure bandages across his bare chest and shoulder, leaving the bloody clothes in a pile on the sidewalk when they bustled him into the ambulance, Jim nodding for her to follow.

She glanced back for the umpteenth time, he was still conscious but no longer trying to speak from behind the O2 mask over his face. His eyes were hooded and blinking sluggishly.

"Hang some plasma." The senior paramedic instructed his partner, producing a bag of clear fluid.

The phrase flicked the switch on a memory Abbey had of when it was her bleeding in the back of an ambulance. She shook her head, refusing to loose her composure, looking for a distraction.

Her hands fiddled with the items in her lap, gliding over the buttons on the blackberry.

With a grimace she flicked it on and scrolled to the contacts.

She blinked in confusion and then smiled in tender comprehension at his shorthand at the top of the list; *D, *E, *Home, *Ja, *Jo, *N, *P, _B, _G, _N.

She scrolled to "*P" first, checked the time then reconsidered and scrolled back up to "*Home" and pressed send.

"You heading back?" Henry's quick voice answered, "Can you get some dish soap from the grocer on your way?

"Sir, it's Detective Baker." She tried to keep her voice level.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

"Where is he?" The former commissioner's voice was tight.

She glanced at the street signs out the window, "We're a few blocks out from New York Presbyterian."

There was movement on the other end of the line, "How bad?"

She glanced to the back of the ambulance and clenched her teeth. The Commissioner's eyes were no longer open and one paramedic was keeping a stethoscope to his chest while the other cleared the medical detritus from the floor, readying for a quick exit.

"Detective…" Henry spoke again, in a quiet tone that was practically a plea.

She swallowed, "It was a shotgun." She looked ahead again. "Shoulder and upper chest."

Henry didn't say anything and Abbey swallowed. "He saw it coming and moved. Most of the lacerations appear shallow."

"Most. Not all." Henry replied solemnly, immediately.

She sighed, "No. Not all."

"Is…" Henry paused before trying again, "Is he awake?"

She glanced back again. The Commissioner's eyes were closed and his head lolled listlessly in the c-collar, oblivious to the paramedic's ministrations.

"I think the paramedics gave him something." She couched her concern, "But he was conscious for a long time."

Henry remained quiet.

"He asked me to call you first." hoping it would be a comfort to Henry that his son had been aware enough to request the call.

They turned the corner into the hospital and the ambulance shuttered to a stop, doors banging open with the paramedics immediately shouting out vitals to the hospital team.

"You're there?" Henry picked up on the background noise.

"They're bringing him in." She confirmed. "There's a whole team on it. He's going to be fine." She assured in voice stronger than she felt.

Henry exhaled audibly, "I need to call the rest of the family." He paused, "It may take some time to get over there. You'll stay?"

She nodded, "I'll stay as long as I can. We will also deploy a security team to the hospital."

"Wait…" Henry interrupted, "Security team? You didn't get the shooters?"

She looked down and winced, "No, sir. Not yet."

"I need to make some calls." Henry harrumphed, and abruptly hung up the phone.

* * *

The former commissioner seemed much more patient with the investigation since.

Abbey had been under the impression that the Commissioner would be spending 48 hours in the hospital but it was notably less than that when Henry had called. Frank was being released with the understanding that he would stay at home for a few days. The elder Reagan suspected keeping that end of the bargain would be a struggle and enlisted her help in the endeavor to keep the Commissioner from his office.

Now, with the exception of a data terminal, conference phone and some relevant case files, the supplies and team she had assembled for that purpose were all back at 1PP.

She settled behind her laptop at the dining room table and smiled as Henry entered, two mugs in hand.

"I made tea instead." He explained, "Some days call for it."

She smiled, "To be honest, I usually prefer it."

"Then you'll like this." He passed her a mug, "Straight from Ireland."

She took a sip of the dark brew and smiled, "Very good, Sir. Thank you."

"I guess I should be saying thank _you_." He replied gently.

Abbey looked around the room, "It was no problem, sir. People wanted to come out to show the Commissioner their support but they understand you wanting to have some order back in the house."

Henry smiled and shook his head, "That's not what I meant."

He looked at her intently through his glasses, "Francis claims not to remember much but I went to Detective Nucifero." He tilted his head, "He told me it was close." The older man shifted, "He said you spotted the bleeder and acted fast. If you hadn't…" He drifted off, looking into his mug.

Abbey swallowed and looked down, slightly shaking her head. "If it wasn't me it would have been someone else." She assured.

"But it _was_ you." Henry paused, emphasizing his point with a look. He smiled and leaned back, "Going to have to push Francis to give you a raise."

She gave a dismissive roll of her eyes but smiled fondly at the older man.

"What?" He questioned.

"You call him Francis." She gave a small shrug, "Reminds me of my father; he always calls me Abigail."

Henry nodded, a soft smile on his face, "Well, no matter how old you get, a father always remembers the first time he held his child in his arms and whispered their name."

He paused, eyes unfocused in memory, "They say newborns can't smile but I swear Francis smiled the first time I held him." He looked to Abbey, grinning.

After a beat the grin faltered and the lines on his forehead creased, "You know…he was small as an infant." He spoke out loud but it was clear his mind was elsewhere, "Much smaller than…" He looked up at Abbey and she could have sworn a spark of pain flash across his face, "…other newborns I had held."

He gestured with his hands as he explained, "You see, my wife, her father was Scottish, from the Highlands, and eventually those genes kicked in, but," He shook his head, "But you would have never have guessed it when he was young. He was just _so_ small. And sick too." He looked up, "Always a fever or congestion or something…" He swallowed.

"We had…been close…to another couple who had lost a son the year before." His clear blue eyes looked to Abbey, "18 months old, leukemia." He bit his lips, "…and each time Francis would get sick..." He winced, "I couldn't sleep. At the time I was walking a beat in the projects but never was I more afraid then when that baby boy would cough. I'd spend half the night at his crib with my hand on his chest so I could feel him breath." He smiled, "I could cover his whole torso with my palm." He held up his hand and stared at it, lost in a memory.

He breathed deeply in and out and looked to the stairs, "And when I think about the man that tiny baby has become…" He shook his head, finishing the thought to himself.

He blinked back to the present, "Well." He gestured to Abbey, "You know the kind of man he is."

Abbey nodded slowly, "Many people do. It's why the whole department is reacting as it is. It's not just that the PC was shot; it's that someone we all admire was."

"Well, he's my son." He frowned, "And I've never been good at telling him I'm proud of him or I love him," He swallowed, "But I am and I do. And I swear, the NYPD is running out of time before I go out on my own hunting for the people who did this."

Abbey began to smile but the cold seriousness on Henry's face stopped her and she swallowed.

The simmering anger in his eyes was exactly the same as the look on his Grandson's face when she saw him at the hospital the other night.

* * *

"Officer." Abbey caught Jamie's attention as he entered the ward, flanked by Renzulli.

He stopped, eyes scanning her and widening. She followed his gaze, realizing for the first time the amount of the Commissioner's blood that had stained her own clothes.

"I guess it ain't a false alarm this time." The sergeant observed.

Jamie clenched his jaw, "Where is he?"

Abbey gestured to where Jim and Christopher stood watch at the end of the hall, "They just brought him into X-ray and then they're going to the OR."

"Operating Room?" Jamie stared, his only movement a slight tick.

"He's okay." She assured, "They were able to clear out most of the shot and stitch him up in the ER but there's a couple that were deeper that they wanted to do with the equipment available in the OR."

Jamie breathed deep and looked around. A handful of other cops were milling about but he didn't acknowledge any of them.

"I called your grandfather." She explained, "But you're the first one here."

"Benefit of being on duty in an RMP, right up the street, eh?" Renzulli smiled at Jamie.

"And not having kids to deal with." Jamie didn't smile back.

The door opened and more cops in suits arrived.

Renzulli bit his lip, "It's probably going to get pretty crowded in here." He looked to Abbey, "Is there a side room somewhere away from all this?"

She nodded, "Dr. Keller said it shouldn't take long and then they'll move him to a room on 7. Do you want to head there?"

"Huh? Um, yeah." The younger officer agreed.

"I'll stay here and keep the troops in line." Renzulli gestured to the growing crowd, He gave a parting pat to Jamie's shoulder, "It'll be alright, kid."

Jamie didn't say anything, just walked woodenly to the elevator.

They stood in silence until it dinged at the 7th floor. They found a little alcove with some comfortable looking chairs but neither sat.

Jamie paced restlessly, his thumbs tucked into his duty belt.

Abbey clenched the plastic bag one of the nurses had given her to hold the Commissioner's belongings. "You should probably take these." She held them out to Jamie.

He furrowed his brow in confusion, the lines deepening as he realized what was inside. He sank into a chair as he pulled out the holster, reverently running his fingers over the old gun.

A phone rang and Abbey jumped before she realized it was her own.

"Baker."

"You need to get over here." Garrett's voice was strained.

"Garrett," She sighed, "Do you _know_ where I am right now?"

"I do." He replied, "And I know what I'm asking of you but you need to be here."

There was some noise on the other side of the phone, the sound of a door closing and when he spoke again, the DCPI's voice was hushed to a whisper.

"Vincenzo is in rare form. He's getting ready to saddle up like Napoleon and rumors are flying around, unchecked." Garrett breathed into the phone, "I know you don't want to leave but Frank needs you here, calming people and keeping Vincenzo focused and honest before he allows the force to light the city up."

Abbey looked back to where Jamie was grasping his father's blood speckled glasses and swallowed.

"Are you certain you can't just do it?" She pushed.

"Abbey; someone actually said they heard that Frank had died and Vincenzo didn't correct them right away. There's no sorting truth from fiction here, you're the only one everyone will trust."

She sighed, "Okay. But I have to go home and get a change of clothes."

"No time." Garrett replied, "I'll call Brian and have him bring some to the office."

She rolled her eyes, "No. _I'll_ call my husband. I'll be on my way. Give me 20."

She hung up the phone and walked back to Jamie, who was sitting on the edge of the chair, still holding the glasses.

"Jamie? I need to get to 1PP. You're family isn't here yet, is there anyone you'd like me to send up to wait with you?"

The youngest Reagan shook his head, "Don't worry about it. I'll call 'em. My father would want you to do what you need to do." He grimace, "Instead of just sitting here, doing nothing." He bit out.

The frustration in his voice overshadowed the truth of his words.

She bit the inside of her cheek as she reached into her pockets pulling out the last two items the nurse had handed her.

"Here," She reached out to Jamie, "They gave these to me to keep safe before they took him to the OR."

Jamie frowned, lightly accepting the thin golden wedding band along with the heavy USMC ring. She had successfully rinsed the blood out of the crevices of the Marine ring before Jamie had arrived but that didn't make it any less unsettling to see them away from their accustomed place on the Commissioner's hands.

Jamie rolled the wedding band between his index finger and thumb, the soft metal bent slightly into an imperfect circle after decades of wear.

He dropped both rings into his palm and closed a tight fist, swallowing.

When he looked up his blue-grey eyes were tensed and focused, every muscle in his face firm. "We're going to get them." He muttered.

* * *

Abbey found herself looking into similarly taut eyes as Henry Reagan promised vengeance for his son.

"There are literally thousands of people who will not rest until they are caught." She assured him.

"Whomever it is better pray it's not a Reagan who catches them first." He promised.

Abbey tilted her head, certain that the Commissioner would not approve of such threats but equally certain it was neither the time nor her place to say so.

Henry took a long draw of his tea then placed it down, glaring at it.

His eyes roved around the room, tapping restlessly on the table. "You probably have work to do." He announced, pushing back from the table. "I'm going up and sit with him for a bit." He gestured to the stairs.

He hovered for a moment, one hand on the door frame, "Thank you again, Detective Baker." He looked down and swallowed, a tremble in his voice, "For looking out for my son."

She sat still, hearing the creak of the steps as he ascended.

Once it was quiet and she was alone at the spacious table, she dropped her head to her hands and breathed several long, stuttered breaths.


	23. Discord

_A/N Another "Dedication"_ _chapter; hope you don't mind me burning two chapters on one episode but I wanted to play with the characters a little differently. This chapter is an episode tag. Also references Chapter 5 of this story._

* * *

"The boss is back today?" Anthony Mitchell from the Chief of Detective's office asked as he caught up with Abbey in the car lot.

She nodded, "That's the plan."

"Damn." Mitchell shook his head, "The man is unstoppable, eh? I'd have assumed he'd at least take the week."

Abbey shrugged, "He figured that it would be incongruous to make it to the dedication ceremony yesterday but not the office today."

Mitchell raised his eyebrows, "Did anyone bother to tell him that he's the only one who thinks that?"

Abbey rolled her eyes, pushing the call button for the elevator, "Okay, sure. Bright idea. I nominate you."

"Ha!" Mitchell laughed, "No way José." He rocked on his feet waiting for the lift to arrive. He glanced to Abbey again, "That was crazy though, huh?"

"What was?" She asked, boarding the elevator.

"The dedication?" Mitchell clarified, "The other brother showing up with a gun and Reagan's kids taking him out?"

"Oh, yeah, that." Abbey gave a stilted nod.

"I mean, first of all, just the notion of someone trying to take out the PC twice in one week is insane." Mitchell continued, oblivious to Abbey's discomfort, "It was pretty brazen; I mean despite scores of cops being there, it sounds like Brennan would have gotten away with it if it weren't for 'Squad Reagan'."

"Yeah..." Abbey agreed, looking down.

Mitchell did a double take, "Oh, hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything against you by that."

She smiled, "No, I know, it's fine." She half shrugged, "Just a stressful week."

Mitchell grimaced, looking up as the bell dinged at his floor, "Yeah, I bet. I am sorry though."

"Nothing to be sorry for." She brushed away his concern with a wane smile.

He looked back at her, sizing up her authenticity. He held the elevator door as he stepped out, "Well, for what it's worth, you did a great job this week; it was chaos the first couple of hours before you showed up back here."

Abbey gave an appreciative grin and looked down, "We've all just been doing our jobs."

"Yeah, well, some better than others." He grinned back, and let the elevator door close as he hollered, "See ya around, Baker."

She felt her smile slide off her face as the elevator continued to move to the 14th floor.

She hadn't wanted to admit to Mitchell how much yesterday's incident had shaken her. The other night had been bad enough but facing the possibility of going through that again just a few days later had robbed her of the stability she had reacquired in the quiet hours working out of the Reagan dining room.

She took a centering breath as the elevator halted and she walked toward her desk. Her steps hesitated as she noticed Jim already at his station.

She glanced to the office doors and back.

"He change his mind about coming in today?" She questioned.

Jim shook his head, "Came in early." He glanced at his log, "0700."

Abbey raised her eyebrows, "Oh. Okay." She always felt off when the Commissioner came in before she had the chance to go through her morning routine.

Jim gestured to her desk, "Chief of D's came by with the 5's from yesterday."

"Thanks." She sighed, hanging her coat and settling in.

She flipped open the file left on the center of her desk, revealing the summaries of Thursday's events. She scanned down the report from Danny Reagan detailing his visit to the wounded nurse, how he realized that Kevin Brennan was involved and his suspicion that the PC was in immediate danger.

She skimmed along until she read a line that stopped her short.

She read it carefully once and then read it again. She glanced to the closed office doors and set her jaw, glaring back at the report.

"Hey," Garrett greeted mid-stride, startling her from her reading. "You want to come in with me?"

Abbey released a sigh, "Sure." She slammed the folder shut and grabbed her note pad.

Garrett raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, letting her lead the way in to the office.

The Commissioner was at his desk, sling hanging loosely around his neck as he was typing on his computer; the healing wound on his neck appearing as an ugly red mark poking out from his starched collar.

Abbey averted her eyes from the physical reminder.

"Frank," Garrett interrupted his boss, "What is the point of wearing the sling if you're not going to actually use it?"

Frank looked up over the rim of his glasses, "Have you tried typing with one hand?"

Garrett sighed, "You know you have people who can type things for you."

"Not everything." Frank corrected, straightening and closing the laptop, "My instructions were to wear it; I'm wearing it. I don't need you mothering me too."

Abbey snorted.

Frank directed a head tilt her way, pursing his lips when she didn't relax.

"Whatever." Garrett interrupted, unaware of the silent exchange, "But my hands are clean when Erin or Henry shows up and lectures you."

Frank narrowed his eyes, "Is there an actual reason you are here Garrett?"

The DCPI nodded, "Yes. The mayor just hired a new press secretary."

Frank sighed, "And I care...why?"

"Because; she's trying to prove herself, coming in like gangbusters." Garrett explained, "We've known for a while that your poll numbers are better than the Mayor's and that was before the shooting was picked up by national media."

He shrugged, "I wouldn't be surprised if she tries to get in here and leverage your popularity to benefit the mayor. I already have 3 messages from her."

"Lucky you." Frank snarked.

"How do you want me to handle her?" Garrett pressed.

Frank shook his head, "I don't care as long as it stays off my desk."

"Helpful..." Garrett noted sarcastically.

Frank pushed back from the desk with a grunt and grimace as he stood, "In real news, we have St Patrick's Day in 2 weeks," he slowly moved to the coffee table, stiffly reaching for a folder on top of a stack.

Garrett eyed what he was going for and bent over, picking it up first and handing it over, "Just...ask, Frank." He chided softly.

Frank sighed in chagrined acknowledgement.

"Anyway," he continued, balancing the folder open with one hand, "The parade committee has requested a change to the block they use to set up and assemble the floats." He grimaced, jostling the papers before sighing in frustration and turning to put the folder on the desk and flipping through for the page he was looking for.

Pulling it out he gestured to Abbey, "Here is what they gave to T&E. Can you get with intel about it?"

Abbey accepted the route request without a word or looking at him.

Frank narrowed his eyes at her analytically.

"Intel?" Garrett pulled his attention back.

Frank shrugged with his good shoulder and leaned back against the front of his desk, adjusting his left arm back into the sling with a wince. "For security purposes. The parade is a target. Any change constitutes a new risk; our job is to mitigate that risk." He explained pedantically, eyeing Abbey again when she huffed under her breath.

Garrett nodded, "Well, to that end, we will again be working across city departments to heighten 'See Something - Say Something' advisories in the days immediately preceding the parade."

"Good." Frank nodded. "Baker, send the standard memo to Chief Hines to remind the precincts; we need to make sure our guys are ready to listen in case anyone actually does say anything. Information is only worthwhile if we act on it."

Abbey couldn't contain a dismissive headshake and eye roll as she jotted down the note.

Frank tilted his head, lips parting in confusion.

"Garrett..." He kept his eyes on Abbey, "Can you give Detective Baker and I a moment?"

Abbey looked up sharply and Garrett glanced back and forth between the two. "Yeah...sure..." He moved to the door, "I'll be in my office. Call me if you need me."

Abbey took a deep breath and tilted her chin down, hands gripping her notepad, waiting.

The door clicked closed behind Garrett and silence filled the office.

The Commissioner tucked his glasses in to his vest, audibly releasing a long breath. "Why do I get the sense you have something on your mind, Detective?"

"Sorry, Sir." She muttered, not looking up.

His eyebrows rose, "That doesn't answer me."

She raised her eyes, glaring at him.

He blinked, leaning back in surprise.

His face softened, brow knitting together. "Baker. Tell me what's wrong."

"I read Detective Reagan's DD5 on yesterday's incident." She scowled.

Frank pursed his lips, "And...So...?"

She locked eyes with him, "Detective Reagan _called_ you."

When he didn't register any comprehension she explained further, "He called you yesterday, before the ceremony. _Told_ you Kevin Brennan was involved and that he might be coming there. He asked you to delay."

Frank broke eye contact and sighed.

"You didn't tell us." Abbey couldn't keep the accusation from her tone. "We walked into that hall and stood on either side of that stage for 15 minutes not having a clue that there was still an imminent threat."

She shook her head, her anger rising, "We weren't in position to be able to adequately respond. If Danny hadn't gotten there in time and Kevin had managed to get off a shot..." She bit her lip, eyes tense, "Neither Jim nor I would have been able to get to you or him in time."

Frank gripped the edge of the desk with his hand, but his eyes were warm, "Well then I guess it's lucky for me that Danny made it."

"I'm not joking, sir!" She snapped.

He straightened. "I'm not either." He wasn't harsh but the softness was waning away, "There's no point in wallowing in 'What-Ifs'."

Abbey shook her head, "With all due respect, sir, that's not what I'm doing."

"It's not?" He tilted his head.

"You didn't tell us what Detective Reagan said!" She accused again. "I've spent the last 18 hours wracking my brain on what I could have missed or done differently. But it turns out there wasn't anything I could have done because I didn't have all the information; You didn't tell us he called!"

"You were standing right behind me when he did!" Frank shot back, all patience gone.

Abbey rolled her eyes, "You know as well as I do that when on security detail that more attention is paid to everyone _other_ than the subject." She tightened her grip on her notepad, "And I am willing to bet even if I had been listening in to the call that there is no way that your end of the conversation would have given me the information I would have needed to adequately do my job and protect _you_!"

Frank squinted at her searchingly, "Baker, everything was _fine_."

"Everything wasn't _fine!_ " She disputed. "You were almost killed, for the second time in a week! This time it would have been in front of a whole crowd of people. I'm sorry, but that isn't what I call _fine_!"

He tilted his head, "What is this really about? Are you upset because it looked like I needed Danny and Jamie to take care of things? Maybe you think that it publicly undermined you and the detail?"

Abbey looked at him blankly, mouth dropping open. She breathed a few moments, processing.

She shook her head, closing her mouth. "You..." She closed her eyes, taking another breath before starting over, "You actually think that I care about if we looked bad?" She ground her teeth, "In _this_ instance, you really think that's what I was worried about?"

Frank stared back, at a loss of how to react to her uncharacteristic anger.

She shook her head in disgust, "Forget it." She bit out, "I'm sorry for bothering you, Sir. I'll be at my desk, Sir." She turned away and exited the office, stopping on the other side as the door slammed shut.

She released a shaky breath and her blue eyes went wide. "Jesus…" She cursed to herself.

Jim looked up with a raised eyebrow but she shook him off and walked stiffly to her own desk.

She dropped her notepad down and sunk into her chair, resisting the urge to put her head in hands.

She glanced at the closed office door and then down to her to do list. She exhaled and pulled out her phone; scrolling to her text thread with Brian.

 _~I just did something really dumb._

 _~doubt it._

Came his immediate reply.

She snorted.

 _~Just yelled at the PC._

 _~thats no good. Y?_

 _~Long story. I may have crossed the line too far._

 _~He mad?_

 _~Think so._

 _~How mad._

 _~Could be very._

 _~Can he fire u?_

 _~Not from the NYPD. But yes, from this office._

 _~Would he?_

 _~I may not wait 2 find out._

 _~Abs - Don't do anything u can't take back b4 u & i talk tonite._

 _~I thought you would be happy like if I weren't working here_

 _~Not true. This job is important 2 u and u r important 2 me. u have a good thing with Reagan. He would b n idiot 2 let u go._

She sighed, her phone dinging again.

 _~If u really want to quit i will support u but dont do anything today. plz._

She grimaced.

 _~Im sure if u yelled it was 4 good reason and if he fires u then he is 2 dumb to work 4 anyway. But id still offer to beat him up for u. 3_

Abbey smiled.

 _~r u only offering to beat him up because he's hurt and couldn't really fight back?_

 _~i'm not a *complete* moron. :-)_

She laughed quietly despite the stress still coiled in her chest.

 _~I love you._

 _~love you 2. keep ur head up._

She sighed and put the phone down just as the office door opened and the Commissioner looked around the doorframe, shoulders minutely relaxing when saw her.

He moved to stand squarely in front of her desk, rolling his lips and shifting uneasily on his feet.

She looked up expectantly.

"I can't do this." He finally sighed out, deflating with the pronouncement.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Fight with you." He explained. "I can fight with Garrett because I can hide from him for a day or two but avoiding you is a non-starter." He pursed his lips, "Come back in? Please?"

Abbey swallowed and nodded stiffly, rising from her seat and walking past as he held the door open.

She stood in the center of the room, hands clasped in front of her, waiting, as the Commissioner allowed the door to swing shut behind him.

"Another difference is that I don't ever feel badly when I yell at Garrett." He admitted with an apologetic grin.

Abbey allowed a small knowing smile, "Yes you do."

Frank rolled his eyes, "Well, maybe. Just because he always threatens to resign each time."

Abbey grimaced, thinking of her text exchange with Brian.

The Commissioner narrowed his eyes, "But you wouldn't do that…"

She swallowed, "I'd only offer in lieu of being fired."

He raised his eyebrows and his mouth opened but said nothing for a beat. He tilted his head with a slight shake, "You know I wouldn't fire you."

Abbey just swallowed silently.

"Right?" Frank pushed again.

She gave him an unsteady smile, "I crossed a line."

"Maybe." Frank shrugged, wincing at the thoughtless movement. "But if you did, it would be a first in the nearly 10 years; I'd say you're over due."

Abbey breathed out, smile growing.

"So," He began again, "At the risk of putting my head in the lion's mouth, can we get back into this?"

Abbey sighed and looked down.

The Commissioner shifted where he stood, unconsciously adjusting the straps of his sling.

She frowned, "You should sit down, Sir."

"I've been sitting or lying down for the majority of the week." He dismissed her concern.

"I know." Abbey shot back simply.

Frank looked back at her for a long moment. His eyes moved in thought, continuing to return to her steadfast gaze.

She sighed, her previous anger leaving her exhausted, "Commissioner, take a seat, _please_."

He looked at her curiously but acquiesced and moved over to the armchair, gingerly lowering himself into it.

Abbey watched and stiffly followed, sitting on the couch across from him.

She straightened the hem of her skirt and looked up with a grimace to see the Commissioner watching her intently.

"Sir. Do you remember when you first hired me?"

He nodded slowly, "Of course."

"Do you remember the circumstances?" She laid out, patiently.

He pursed his lips, his right hand coming up to stroke the edge of his mustache, "I received your medal recommendation and resignation letter on the same day."

She nodded grimly, "Yes."

She didn't elaborate, waiting for him to recall the conversation, knowing he could.

He sighed and closed his eyes for a beat, looking back up, "You had lost a lot."

"I did." She agreed.

He opened his mouth and closed it again, realization coloring his features. He leaned forward watching himself fidget with his fingers. "You also said that resigning was hard, but seeing another partner get hurt would be harder."

He didn't look up.

"Yeah." Abbey breathed.

He swallowed. "You know..." His voice was quiet, "I don't really remember anything from the other night." He rolled his lips and his eyes unfocused in thought. "I remember seeing the car and the gun blast. I remember telling you I couldn't move my arm and you telling me I had been shot and then thinking that I shouldn't swear in front of Walter."

Reluctantly a small grin pulled at her lips.

He shook his head and leaned back, "But after that..." He grimaced, "Blank until the next morning. I don't even remember my family visiting that night."

"Hypovolemic shock can do that." Abbey empathized.

He nodded, "Yeah." He mouth tightened, "But just because I can't remember doesn't mean that I haven't been told how everything played out." He looked steadily back to her, "I believe I owe you a thank you."

She smiled gently, shaking her head, "Not really Sir. Jim, Christopher and I just did our jobs. As did the paramedics and hospital staff." She swallowed, "But I won't tell you that it was an enjoyable evening." She looked wryly at him.

He grinned, "I don't imagine it was. I'm sorry about that."

"You don't have anything to apologize for about that night." She replied evenly.

He narrowed his eyes, " _'About that night'_..." He tilted his head to make better eye contact, "But I do have something else to apologize for?"

She inhaled and brushed a hair off her skirt. "That same day, the day you hired me," She explained slowly, "You said something else when explaining why I should accept a new position instead of resign." She squinted in memory, "You said, that you would personally vouch for the safety of my partner."

She pegged him with a shimmer of her previous intensity.

Frank sighed, "And blowing off Danny's concerns wasn't exactly following through on that promise." He muttered frustratedly.

Abbey bounced her eyebrows and grimaced, "You could have been killed if Danny hadn't shown up. It didn't need to get that far. We could have put measures in place. Had we just _known_ we could have done _something_ …" She looked away.

He exhaled slowly with a short nod. "I'm sorry."

He waited for her to look back, making eye contact. "I am. I should have trusted Danny's concern and, as my detail, you should have been kept informed that there was still a threat. I am sorry."

Abbey's chin quivered and she bit the inside of her cheeks, "I don't ever want to go through that night again."

"Neither do I." He agreed emphatically.

Abbey gave a half smile back.

She released a breath, "And, I'm sorry, sir. I really shouldn't have spouted off as I did." She looked down, "I just read Danny's report before coming in with Garrett and I guess I just hadn't processed it."

Frank looked down then met her eyes with a comforting smile, "Well, as I said, you were past due." He sighed, "And it's not like you were without good reason."

"Thank you, sir." She absorbed the validation with a shallow nod. "There is something else."

He met her eyes, "Oh?"

She nodded, "Christopher and Tony and Maria are ready for the full schedule." She explained, "So I'll be taking myself off the detail rotation."

The Commissioner pressed his lips together and breathed through his nose. "Of course, that's your right as squad supervisor."

He hesitated on his next words and Abbey stepped in for him, "It was always part of the plan, sir. The events of this week haven't had anything to do with it."

"If you're sure?" Frank asked, suspiciously. "Because I meant what I said; none of this was the fault of you or the detail; I trust you."

"Thank you, Sir." She smiled warmly for the first time that morning, "I do appreciate it. I may jump in from time to time; you know I enjoy opportunities to get out from behind the desk but I've always known detail work isn't for me." She grinned meaningfully, "This past week just helped reaffirm what I already knew."

Frank returned the grin, "I'll bet."

They sat quietly for a beat, allowing the silence to linger.

"Okay." He exhaled, breaking the moment, "So, we're okay? You and I?"

She smiled, "Yes, sir. Of course."

"Good." He grinned, shaking his head, "I don't like it when you're mad at me."

"Hopefully it will be another 10 years before I am again." She teased.

Frank's face fell exaggeratedly, "I don't know; another decade behind this desk may be too much to bear."

Abbey grinned, "It will be considerably easier if people stop trying to shoot you."

He held up a hand, "I can't tell you how happy I'll be to have this all be in the past and to never relive any bit of it again."

The office phone rang as the Commissioner was talking.

Abbey reached over the arm of the sofa, "Police Commissioner's office."

"Detective Baker?" Erin's voice came through.

Abbey smiled and looked to the Commissioner, "Yes, Erin?"

Instead of grinning as she expected he would, the Commissioner winced and struggled to push himself to stand out of the low chair.

"My father's there?" Erin asked uncertainly.

"Yes, do you want me to put you through?" Abbey confirmed, confused.

Erin sighed audibly, "Yes please."

Abbey held out the phone to her boss.

"Hey sweetie." He put on exaggerated cheer.

He bit his lip as she spoke, faux smiling again when he replied, "Well…you know, I was already working from home, thought it was time I came back in."

Abbey tried to stifle her amusement at his side of the conversation.

"Yes…No….I am...just fine...Erin, Honey…Okay…. Okay…. Yes…. I won't...I promise... Of course."

He hung up the phone and looked wryly to Abbey. "You're not the only one a little angry at me." He grimaced.

"I take it she didn't know you were coming in today?" She clarified.

"Nope." Frank affirmed, "But she's not going to be the worst of it." He glanced to the door, "Pops has been off with one of his volunteer groups since 0600."

Abbey dropped her jaw, "You didn't tell _him_?"

Frank shrugged, "Last night I insinuated I was considering coming in."

Abbey shook her head, exasperated, "So you need to get as much done as possible before he figures it out and comes down here?"

"He gets home at noon." Frank nodded.

She rolled her eyes, "Okay. In that case, I have the inquiry from the Paris PD, the budget stipulations from the Mayor's office, a memo from the UN for next month's General Assembly, Councilman Singer is still waiting on a reply to his inquiry and the ComStat minutes from this week."

"Is that all?" He raised an eyebrow.

She smiled, "No sir. Just prioritizing what can be accomplished before Henry shows up."

Frank rolled his eyes, heaving a sigh, "Great." He glanced to Abbey, "In that case can you also, discretely get me a report on a certain officer in the 12th?"

She frowned, "Still worried about Jamie?"

"Probably needlessly." He confirmed, with a far off look. "But until I get a better handle on what's bothering him..." He shrugged, "Fatherly prerogative."

She smiled warmly, "Of course sir. I'll see what's been going on in the precinct."

Looking down at his desk he pulled his glasses out of his vest pocket, "Alright then, let's get back to work."


	24. Vexation

_A/N - Takes place near the very end of 1.17. Blink- &-you-miss-it references to 1.7, 1.8 & 1.11_

 _Confession - Although intrigued by this episode I wasn't going to do a chapter on it because I struggled to fit it from Baker's POV. But after seeing a comment in the reviews I decided to give it a try and I'm glad I did; knowing pieces from the next few chapters I hope it offers a good ramp up. So thanks for the impetus "C-C"! (And thanks to those who caught my typo regarding the station number in the previous chapter; I fixed it for you!)_

* * *

Abbey tried not to let it show as a chill ran up her spine.

"You cold, Baker?" The Commissioner grinned mockingly even as he blew visible breath.

She shook her head, "Not at all sir."

He snorted in disbelief, "It's not good to lie to the PC, Detective."

"Oh no, sir." She rolled her eyes, "I regularly find that 34 degrees is perfect weather for a city stroll."

Frank smirked at her sass, "Oh come on now! We're a week away from the first day of Spring!"

"That would make it currently still Winter, Sir." She hugged her arms tighter to her side, shivering again as a gust of wind snaked under her collar as they crossed through the colonnades of the municipal building on their way back to 1PP.

She smiled as the same wind goosed the Commissioner and he reflexively shivered and readjusted his coat.

He glared at her, "I suppose that was karma."

She smiled back sweetly, "I didn't see anything."

"Hrmph" He grumbled, digging his hands deeper into his pockets, "It just takes so much longer to actually drive to City Hall, sometimes it's nice to get out and stretch the legs a bit."

"Mrhm." Abbey retorted unintelligibly into her scarf.

He looked to her with narrowed eyes and she blinked back innocently.

He sighed and looked away as she smiled to herself.

"The Mayor seemed contrite when asked about Curston's column about you." She observed.

The Commissioner glanced over to her, "I don't think contrite is the right word." He shook his head, "It's been 5 years and he still does not get me at all." He adjusted his scarf, "I'll be happy when the election is over and his insecurities calm down."

Abbey glanced up, "Or there's a new mayor."

He sighed, "Or that."

She looked him over for a beat, "Do you think any of the current candidates would bring in a new Commissioner?"

He pursed his lips and shrugged, "I don't know." He smiled to Abbey, "Not worth worrying about. At least for now."

She nodded and burrowed back in to her scarf. Her eyes were focused on avoiding the ice on the sidewalk so she didn't see what caused the Commissioner's steps to slow until his concerned, "Danny?" drew her attention.

She looked up to see Detective Reagan approaching the entrance gate of 1PP a few steps ahead of them. He turned upon hearing his father say his name and Abbey blinked in surprised at his appearance.

The beginnings of a black eye were developing above a sizable gash on his cheek bone. Blood was on the side of his face, seeping from the corner of his lip and drying on the edge of his nose. When he readjusted his jacket there was clearly blood on his knuckles and spots across his shirt.

Next to her Frank took a deep breath in and walked with deliberate pace to his son.

Abbey fell back next to Jim a few steps behind the Commissioner's shoulder as he stopped a few feet in front of Danny, head tilted.

"You okay?" He asked evenly.

To her surprise, Danny gave a slow, short shake of his head, "No." He swallowed, maintaining eye contact with his father through red rimmed eyes.

The pronouncement must have similarly surprised the Commissioner; his shoulders softened and the sternness fell away from his face. His eyes rapidly looked over his son. He set his jaw and glanced around the sparse courtyard. No one was paying them any attention, faces tucked into their coats and shoulders high as they hurried through the cold to their destination.

He looked back to Danny and sighed, "Cassidy?"

Danny nodded once, "I'm sorry Dad. I swear it's not what you think. He resisted."

"He claiming otherwise?" His lips downturned into a firm frown.

Danny shook his head, "No." He swallowed, "But he hasn't met with his lawyers yet."

"Where is he?"

Danny looked down then gestured vaguely to the road, "Jackie's bringing him New York Presb; He's got a broken nose."

"From you?" Frank questioned.

Danny nodded. When he looked up Abbey's heart seized, he looked ready to cry, "Dad, I know you were worried about me and this case and I know I screwed up this morning. I just wanted to tell you, before it blows up that I didn't do what you are going to think I did. I didn't lay a hand on the guy until he threw an elbow when I was trying to cuff him."

Frank's shoulders stooped and he looked sadly at his son. "I don't think you did anything, son."

Danny shook his head, "I know I have a history and I know you think that I get away with a lot more than I should. I know it pisses you off and I know that you are probably regretting that you _didn't_ take me off this case; especially after this morning."

"This isn't about that right now." Frank leveled at him.

"I'm just saying; I didn't go over the line, Dad." Danny's face was crumpled with emotion, "I really didn't. And I could have. I wanted to. I really did. I wanted to do to him what he did to Michael Oates but I stopped. I…" He looked down and then back up, tears in his eyes, "I'd never be able to look at any of you again so I stopped, Dad. I stopped. But I wanted to."

Frank swallowed and blinked several times. He reached out and palmed the side of Danny's face and he looked intently into his son's eyes for a moment before moving his hand to Danny's shoulder.

"Should you be going to a doctor?" He asked stiffly.

Danny shook his head, "No, sir. I'm fine."

Frank inhaled through his nose and looked Danny over again. "Detective Curatola coming back to pick you up?"

Danny nodded, "I said I could walk over to the hospital and meet her there."

Frank shook his head, "Why don't you come inside, get cleaned up first?"

Danny gave a stiff nod and allowed Frank to lead him through the gate and into the building with a steady hand on his back.

As they entered the elevator the Commissioner glanced to Abbey, "Could you grab some towels and a mug of warm water from the break room?"

She nodded wordlessly and pushed the button for the 12th floor.

Stepping out she released a shaky breath and moved to the kitchenette to collect the requested items. On the way back she stopped at her desk for the small first aid kit she kept and then knocked on the office door.

"Come in."

Both Danny and the Commissioner sat facing one another in the visitor chairs. Danny was still in his jacket but the Commissioner's over coat and suit jacket were dumped across his desk. He had on his glasses and was holding Danny's right hand between both of his.

"You sure that doesn't hurt?" He asked, looking at his son's slight wince as he put pressure on a knuckle.

Danny tried unsuccessfully to pull his hand back, "No, I mean, yeah a little, but Dad, trust me, I would know if I broke it."

Frank grimaced and glanced to Abbey over the rims of his glasses, "Towels?"

She placed the mug of warm water on the desk and held the towels out to him. He placed one over his knee and took another one in his hand, dipping in the water and wiping away the drying blood from Danny's hand.

He pursed his lips, "You definitely bruised it." He looked up with a half-hearted grin, "Who taught you how to throw a punch, eh?"

" _Pops_." Danny replied emphatically, "Remember? You said you wouldn't teach me to fight until I was older."

Frank paused his ministrations and looked up in consternation at his son, "You mean when you were 3?" He shook his head and went back to his work, "Judging from this bruising you still hit like you were 3."

Danny shook his head, a reluctant grin growing on his face, "Are we going to have to fight, Old Man?"

"That would hardly be fair to you. Besides," Frank looked up seriously, "Linda's cooking this Sunday, I'd never risk her denying me pot roast because I whooped your ass."

Danny rolled his eyes, "You talk tough…Someday, we're going to have that boxing rematch."

Frank winced, "How many times do I have to apologize for that?"

"I'm not asking you to apologize." Danny shook his head, "I'm just looking for a chance to wipe that smug look off your face."

Frank sat back, a challenging glint in his eye, "If you couldn't go more than 2 rounds when you were in your 20s what makes you think anything is going to change now? Baker, do you have an ice pack in that kit." He directed to her.

She shook one up and handed it over as Danny shrugged, "You're getting slower; I'm just getting better."

"Ha!" Frank laughed openly, "Don't forget; I still have 5 inches on you. Now, hold this on your hand, and stop fidgeting." He ordered sternly, placing the ice pack on Danny's bruised knuckles and leaning forward to wipe the blood from under his eye.

"I have some Neosporin." Abbey offered.

Frank nodded, "Please."

He wiped some of the anti-bacterial over the cut and Danny winced. "It could probably use a stitch or two you know."

"I'm not going to go do that." Danny winced again, "I'll just cover it and let heal. If it scars, it scars."

Frank frowned and looked to Abbey, "Do we have steri-strips or dermabond?"

She poked around in the box, pleased that she thought keep the kit well stocked. "We have both."

She placed a couple of steri-strips and the tube of dermabond into the Commissioner's waiting palm.

"You know…", Frank smirked as he leaned in to try and close the cut, "You're so quick to defend the use of Pop's slapper to Jamie; maybe you like it so much because your hand to hand is lacking."

Danny rolled his eyes, "Yeah, Yeah." He sighed and readjusted his eyes to look directly at his father, "What's going on with that kid anyway?" He glanced over to Abbey, "Never mind."

Frank followed the path Danny's eyes had gone and shook his head, "No, not never mind. What do you mean by that? And don't worry about Baker, she probably already knows."

Danny sighed resisting pulling away as Frank tended to the cut. "I just mean he's been acting skittish."

Frank frowned, "What do you mean by that?"

"I dunno really." He shrugged, "He won't talk to me about the job."

"You asking anything in particular?" Frank leaned back thoughtfully.

Danny squinted, "I mean, there was that whole thing back before Thanksgiving, with him stumbling into that scene in Chinatown? I never really understood what he was doing there."

"Jamie's a grown man. He can go wherever he wants with or without reason." Frank offered diplomatically.

"Yeah, but there was a reason." Danny asserted, "I know it was right around when he and Syd broke up and I know that has to have hurt and probably still does but it was still strange. Then, a couple weeks ago, I ran in to Sonny Malevsky, you know, from Warrants with Joe?"

Frank nodded, "I remember Sonny."

"Well, he mentions to me that he met Jamie at a scene but when I mention it to Jamie he got all…" Danny gestured vaguely, searching for the right word, "Squirrely."

Frank nodded again, "Well, Sonny was with Joe the night he was shot. Jamie's always been sensitive about that."

"I know that." Danny sighed, "And maybe I'm just being sensitive too. Something about seeing my kid brother in the bag and thinking about Joe…maybe I'm looking for problems that aren't there."

"But…" Frank prompted knowingly.

"But…" Danny rocked his head, "Everything taken together. It just feels like he isn't acting like himself."

Frank looked down, and made knowing eye contact with Abbey for a beat. He looked back to Danny, "Well, first of all, being on the job changes people; it changed you that first year and you probably didn't even realize it."

Danny rolled his eyes dismissively, gesturing for Frank to continue, "And? Second of all?"

Frank smiled resignedly, "Secondly, you have some of the best instincts of any cop I've ever known. If you think there's something to be worried about then I wouldn't discount it."

Danny grimaced, "So what am I supposed to do about that? The kid already thinks I'm on his case just for being a rook."

"You've always been a good big brother." Frank assured, "A pain in the ass but there for your siblings when they need you. Just, be there for him."

He sighed, tucking his glasses into his vest pocket, "For what it's worth, I don't disagree with you. I've let him know I'm worried and, " He glanced to Abbey again, "He knows I'm keeping an eye on him." He leaned back, "But he won't come to me. He's too concerned about proving himself and trying to respect the line between Dad and Boss."

Danny grimaced.

"But he might open up to you. Just show him in little ways that he can." Frank pinned Danny with an earnest look.

"Alright." Danny nodded, "I got it."

Frank smiled, "Good." He tossed Danny the towel and gestured to his lip, "You still got a little there."

Danny scrubbed at it, "Thanks."

"You're okay, Danny." Frank looked as his son solemnly.

Danny looked up, meeting his eyes, "I know."

"No." Frank shook his head, "I really mean it. You're really okay. On the job, with your brother, and everything else; you're okay."

Danny looked down squeezing the blood smeared towel, "Sometimes it doesn't feel like it."

"I know." Frank frowned, "And that's okay too."

Danny looked up and Frank elaborated, "It's okay to not always feel right about it all. Hell, it's even expected given the things that I know still haunt you; but you need to be honest with yourself and not let your gut reactions and emotions get the better of you. You're a smart man. Lead with your head."

Danny nodded and looked down again.

"Knock, knock." The office door opened revealing Jackie Curatola. "Detective Nuciforo said I should just come in." She hesitated, reading the solemn look on her partner's face, "Should I wait outside?"

Frank stood with a smile and moved back around to the far side of his desk, "No, come on in Detective. Your partner's just about all set."

"Thank you, Commissioner," She looked to Danny, "You do look better without blood dripping all over the place."

He flashed her a lackluster grin, "Well, I know you have standards."

She smiled tenderly and put a gentle hand on his bicep, "You good now?"

Danny nodded, "Yeah, I'm good."

He swallowed and looked intently to the Commissioner, "Thanks Dad."

Frank returned a tight-lipped smile, his hands deep in his pockets, "You two take care of one another."

"Yes, Sir." Jackie promised.

"Baker." Danny gave her a parting nod as he followed Jackie out the door.

The Commissioner watched them leave before releasing a long exhale and sinking in to his chair while rubbing two fingers between his eyes.

Abbey smiled gently and picked his overcoat off the desk, hanging it up.

"You thinking of having kids?" He asked while she was still behind him.

She blinked, and looked to him as she came back around the desk, "Um, what, sir?"

He smiled languidly at her, "Not that it's any of my business, but are you and Brian thinking of having kids?"

She frowned, "We've talked about it."

"Well, a piece of advice?" Frank dropped his hand from his forehead, "Just wrap them in bubble wrap from day one."

Abbey looked down with a soft grin and moved to clean up the pieces of the first aid kit.

Frank continued to think aloud, "Or maybe just have one. It has to be easier than four. I've _never_ put my father through this same kind of stress."

Abbey straightened and looked at him with disbelief.

"What?" He asked defensively.

She didn't say anything, just looked pointedly at his shoulder.

He followed her gaze and sighed, "Alright, well at least not intentionally."

She smiled, shaking her head.

Frank leaned his head back and blew out another breath, "I just worry."

"I know, Sir." She paused with a sympathetic frown, "Can I get you anything?"

He sighed, "Garrett is still out for a week?"

"Yes, but I can get him on the phone." She offered.

"Nah." The Commissioner straightened up, "I just should get started on a draft of my statement for the Governor's luncheon." He grimaced. "If you could send up one of the DCPI's assistants with whatever talking points I should be covering that would be helpful."

"Of course." She backed to the door as the Commissioner stood to put his suit jacket back on and tossed away the ice pack Danny had left on the edge of the desk.

"Kids." She could hear him mutter exhaustedly as she closed the door between them.


	25. Ianus

_A/N - Set in the closing scenes of episode 1.21. Refers back to a conversation between characters in 1.16 and incidents in 1.18. Quick references to chapter 4 & 5 of this story._

* * *

"What?" Abbey blinked, awake. "Is he alright?"

"Yeah." Garrett confirmed over the line, "He refused medical treatment at the scene. But the car is totaled."

She sat up in bed, pulling Brian's hand away. "You calling the Commissioner?"

"That's why I'm calling you." Garrett explained, "My thought is to leave it until morning. But if Frank finds out that I knew beforehand, once he sees the police report, if Jamie doesn't already tell him…"

Abbey sighed, "He can't get mad if you don't call him in the middle of a Sunday night if no one is hurt."

"How sure are you of that?" He asked, "Cause if he does I'm telling him it was your idea."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Whatever, Garrett. Goodnight."

She hung up the phone and placed it down on the end table, tucking herself back into bed.

"What was that?" Murmured Brian, readjusting behind her.

"Garrett." She muttered, "The Commissioner's son ended up on a police report after a car accident. Garrett wanted to wake him up to tell him."

"Car accident?" Brian murmured, "He's okay?"

"Yeah." Abbey answered into her pillow.

"So why Moore tied up over it? The kid drinking?"

"Nah." She shook her head, "Not Jamie."

Brian buried his face behind her neck, wrapping his arm back around her waist. "That's a pretty bold endorsement. Even good people do dumb things.

"I know." Abbey nodded, "But I just don't see drunk driving as even in the realm of possibility for Jamie."

She sighed, reflecting over what she knew about the youngest Reagan.

"What?" Brian looked up, feeling her tense.

She bit her lip, "I still can't imagine it, but the commissioner's been worried about Jamie for a while."

"How so?"

"I'm not entirely sure." She rolled over to look at her husband, "Just a number of little things I guess. He's just…been concerned."

Brian shrugged, "From what I've heard, Reagans seem to have pretty good intuition."

She frowned, "Yeah…they do…"

Brian smiled at her, "So now you _do_ want to call him."

She rolled her eyes, "It'll annoy Garrett after I just told him not to."

"Who cares?" Brian smiled, "I know you, this is going to fester and you won't be able to sleep otherwise."

"So I should disturb the Commissioner's sleep so I can sleep better?" She volleyed, "I already suspect he hardly sleeps most nights."

Brian shrugged, "So maybe he's already awake."

She exhaled and Brian rolled over onto his back, "Look, I think you should call him and I'm pretty sure you will eventually but if it's going to take long to make up your mind could you please do your worrying routine in a manner that allows _me_ to sleep?"

She rolled her eyes, "Fine. For your precious sleep I'll just get it over with."

She picked up her blackberry from the nightstand and clicked to the second name on her speed dial.

The phone rang three times before, "Reagan." The familiar voice was thick and whispered.

She sighed, he probably _had_ been asleep, "Sir, it's Baker."

"What's wrong?" His voice immediately cleared and there was shuffling of fabric behind him.

"Everyone is okay." She started with the important part. "But a report just came in that Jamie was in a car accident."

"What?" The background noise stilled.

"I don't know any details other than he was fine enough to refuse the paramedics but the car didn't fare so well and it happened over by the Navy Yard." She winced, wishing she had better details. "Garrett may know more."

On the other end of the line the Commissioner exhaled and cleared his throat. "Thank you."

The phone disconnected.

Abbey looked at the device in her hand.

"Feel better?" Brian smiled.

"Not really." She shot off a quick text to Garrett before putting the phone back down and curling up to her husband again.

* * *

The next afternoon Abbey answered the desk phone without taking her eyes off her computer screen. "Baker."

"Detective, this is Marcocci from downstairs, I have a young woman here trying to see the Commissioner."

"Does she have an appointment?"

"She says she doesn't need one."

Abbey rolled her eyes, "That's special. Who is she? Is she saying she's with anyone?"

"She's not with anyone. Her only ID is a school ID, Nicole Boyle."

Abbey hung her head and smiled, "Officer, That's the Commissioner's granddaughter. Please let her up."

She hung up the phone and sighed. She typed a few last lines in the email, hit send and closed down the program just in time to hear the ding of the elevator. She stood to intercept the young teen.

"Nicky." She greeted when the doors opened.

The Commissioner's granddaughter seemed startled to see her and stepped stiffly off the lift, "Um, Hi. I'd like to see the Police Commissioner please."

Abbey smiled. Nicky had been up to the office several times when she was younger but never alone and not at all in the past year.

She tilted her head, "I know. I'm Abbey. Do you remember me?"

Nicky nodded, "You work for my Grandfather. You came to the Rockefeller tree with us."

"I did." Abbey grinned at the memory. "Your Grandfather is still on his way back from the Bronx. But he should be coming up any minute. Would you like to wait in his office?"

"Can I?" Nicky asked uncertainly.

"Of course." Abbey assured, with an encouraging smile, "I'm pretty certain the Commissioner would prefer it."

Nicky's eyes roamed the surroundings as Abbey guided her into the office at the end of the hall.

They entered and Nicky stood awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"Want anything while you wait? Soda? Water? You don't do coffee yet, right?" Abbey asked, finding herself more uncomfortable with this girl than with any of the powerful figures who came through the office on a daily basis.

Nicky just shook her head, eyes tracing the various items around the room, "Thanks, I'm fine."

Abbey hesitated, she knew the Commissioner would like to have Nicky wait here instead of in the hall but she wasn't entirely certain about leaving a 14 year old unattended in the office.

She let the door fall shut and clasped her hands in front as she watched as the girl began to explore the room, thumbs hooked behind the straps of her backpack.

She paused at the bookshelf "Are all of these Grampas?"

Abbey stepped closer, looking at the medals in the shadow box Nicky was staring at. "I believe so. These are from the Marines, I don't know much about him from back then."

"Neither do I." Nicky frowned.

She stared for a moment longer then turned to point to another display case, "What about those?"

Abbey looked at the familiar NYPD commendations. "Yes, those are his. You know the bars above the shield on his dress uniform?"

Nicky nodded.

"They come with real ribbons and medals." Abbey explained, gesturing to a few others throughout the office.

Nicky nodded solemnly, stepping up to read the text of a framed certificate. "This is from Berlin?" She questioned, looking back to Abbey. "Like in Germany?"

She smiled, "The Commissioners of big cities have a lot of things in common and your Grandfather often works with departments all over the world."

Nicky turned around, her eyes bouncing across the room. "I remember when I was younger I thought all this stuff just came with the office." She bit her lip.

Abbey took a moment to look around for herself. "Some pieces did." She gestured to the large picture of Roosevelt, "And some things were gifts to the office rather than the Commissioner himself." She indicated the bronze police statue and a few trinkets.

"And some are because of Uncle Joe." Nicky commented, touching the wooden frame around the folded green and white flag on the bookshelf.

"Yes." Abbey confirmed, unable to keep the melancholy from her tone.

Nicky looked back to her, "You knew my Uncle?"

Abbey nodded, "A little." She gave a small smile, "He would come in a lot after your Grandmother passed; he was a really good guy."

Nicky smiled wistfully, "I miss him."

Abbey looked down and Nicky took a quick breath and moved away from the bookshelf.

She stopped to read the few honorary notes and commendations on the wall and side table, eventually making her way behind the Commissioner's desk, tilting her head and smiling at the various family photos.

She paused, picking up an inscribed tablet from the Governor. "It's just kind of strange, you know?"

Abbey stepped closer, finding herself curious as to Nicky's observations. "What is?"

The teen shrugged, "I don't know. Uncle Danny says Grampa is the best cop the NYPD ever had…but that's just family being proud of family. These things…" She read over the text to herself, "It just doesn't sound like him, I mean I guess I agree that he's honorable and brave and dedicated...but just the way it's put..." She frowned, "It's almost like some of this stuff is talking about someone else."

She picked up the picture Frank and Mary with her other hand, "But it's all here besides pictures like this."

She looked at the picture of her grandparents for a long moment.

Abbey struggled for the right words, "Lots of times, adults inhabit different roles at home and at work." She gestured to the tablet, "Those commendations and honors sound very much like the Police Commissioner who I see at work everyday." She pointed to the picture in Nicky's hands, "This guy, in a comfortable shirt and easy smile is someone who looks familiar but isn't really the man I know." She frowned, "Does that make sense?"

Nicky pursed her lips and furrowed her brow, "I guess so." She looked back and forth between the tablet and the picture, "Two sides to the same person?"

Abbey side, "I wouldn't say exactly that, two sided sounds almost devious." She bit her lip, "I'd say, when you picture your grandfather at home on a Sunday, and everything you know about him and his personality; that's probably the most genuine version of him." She gestured to the picture again, "But, he has an obligation and a responsibility to his work so just like he puts on a suit to come to the office he also puts on other traits that help him do the job. Especially with your uncles working in the department sometimes there needs to be a clear difference between Frank Reagan and Commissioner Reagan."

She looked over to see the young woman staring thoughtfully back at her, "That sounds oppressive."

Abbey couldn't help but smile, "I'm not sure he'd disagree with you. It's certainly not always easy." She glanced over the glowing praise on the tablet Nicky had been looking at. "For what its worth, your grandfather also doesn't always agree with the honors people try to give him; he actively tries to find ways to dodge many of them."

Nicky looked up, eyes pinched in thought, "I guess that's another thing."

"What?"

"There are _so_ many." Nicky looked around the room again. She shrugged, "It's a little overwhelming to realize that he's like, _really_ important. Because he is, isn't he?"

"The Police Commissioner is an important job." Abbey agreed. "And he's really good at it. You should be proud."

Nicky grimaced in thought, turning around again and putting the picture frame back on the shelf. She paused, "Why does he have a fireman's helmet?"

"Because I have a soft skull." The familiar voice answered jovially from the doorway.

"Grampa!" Nicky smiled, coming out from behind the desk and allowing herself to be enveloped in a bear hug.

He pulled back, smiling cheerfully at his granddaughter, "I heard we had an intruder. What's up, kiddo? Where's your mom?" He gave her cheek a soft pinch and pat.

"She's still at work. We had a field trip to Federal Hall today so I thought I'd see if I can ride back home with Mom but she was still in court so I came over here."

"Well, I always love to see you," He grinned then turned serious, "But you know I have to work too."

"I know." She nodded, "I just thought I could do my homework here while I wait for Mom? Then maybe we could get dinner together?" She smiled sweetly, "Please? I hate sitting in her office alone."

"Of course," Frank assured sympathetically, hugging her with one arm, "I'll be happy for the company."

He gestured to the coffee table, "Just keep the files stacked together and that side of the office is all yours." He shrugged out of his coat and Abbey stepped over, catching hold before he could dump it on the chair.

"Thank you, Detective." He tossed over his shoulder, turning his attention back to his Granddaughter.

Nicky was watching Abbey hang the jacket on the hook with thoughtful scrutiny, "You're a detective?"

Caught off guard, Abbey blinked, "Um, yes."

"Like, a real cop?" Nicky tilted her head.

"Nicky." Frank chastised from behind his desk, "Of course she's a real cop."

Nicky didn't look at her grandfather, head still tilted in Abbey's direction, "I guess I just am confused; you're a detective just like Uncle Danny?"

Frank looked to Abbey expectantly, giving her the space to explain.

"Well…yes and no." Abbey stepped away from the coat hook as she tried to articulate the difference, "I am a Detective First Grade which means in the eyes of the NYPD your uncle and I are the same. We've had similar training and for a little while I operated out of a precinct with a partner just like him."

She shifted, "But I've been working for your grandfather since he was Chief of Department. You're uncle is a Detective- _investigator_ and I'm a Detective- _Specialist_ because of the work I do here."

Nicky dropped her book bag on the couch and settled next to it, "Do you still solve crimes?"

"Sometimes." Abbey shrugged, "If I'm asked to." She flashed a grin to the Commissioner.

"Most of the time I manage the information and people that come through the office." She explained, "Sometimes, a case will end up on the Commissioner's radar and if there isn't adequate background I'll get a team together and we'll do some investigating to fill the holes."

The Commissioner nodded, "And special projects. She worked with your Mom to find and arrest the ADA who was involved with the gang that kidnapped Aunt Linda last month."

"Wait a minute," Nicky frowned, "An ADA helped get Aunt Linda kidnapped?"

She looked to her Grandfather who winced, "I thought you knew?"

"No." Nicky shook her head. "Mom told me about the kidnapping. She said it was people who didn't want Uncle Danny to testify."

"Right." Frank nodded. "But they wouldn't know who your Uncle was or any of the protections we tried to set up for him and Linda if it weren't for someone on the inside."

"And a lawyer in Mom's office did that for them?" Nicky asked, agape.

Frank confirmed with a doleful nod, "Yes he did."

"But…" Nicky shook her head, "Why?"

"Money." Frank replied simply.

"The gang would pay him for information on witnesses so they could avoid indictments." Baker explained.

"That doesn't make any sense!" Nick stood up. "Why would you become a District Attorney if all you cared about was money? Someone in that job is supposed to care about justice."

Frank smiled tenderly at Nicky's idealism. "Sometimes people's demons shout down their better angels. No one is immune to temptation and no job is exempt from people who give into it."

"Even cops?" Nicky asked.

Frank nodded, smile fading, "Even cops."

Nicky sat back down putting her chin in her hands, "I thought cheating cops were something from the movies and the old days that Pops talks about; like the wild west."

"I wish that were true." Frank commiserated.

Nicky looked back up, "But you're the Police Commissioner. You can stop it."

The Commissioner sighed, "I can try."

Abbey smiled encouragingly, "There's a lot that's been done since your Grandfather took this office. There were a number of cops who are no longer on the force because of their questionable activities."

"Why were they allowed on to begin with?" Nicky questioned.

"Bad people don't always start bad." Frank explained, "And the PC before me was more likely to look the other way on a lot of things."

Abbey snorted at the understatement.

Nicky stared at her Grandfather, "But you don't."

He shook his head, "What do you think?"

She smiled at him, "I think that you care about justice. And I think that cops that break their oath probably make you angry."

"They do." He nodded, "For someone to break their oath is a betrayal to all the good men and women who put themselves out there every day. A dirty cop disrespects all other cops and the sacrifices they make."

"I can't imagine any amount of money that would be worth that." Nicky reflected.

She leaned back on the sofa, and looked back to Abbey, "I think I might want to be a cop." She explained.

Abbey grinned, glancing to her boss, "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me."

Nicky tilted her head, eyes looking Abbey up and down, "I don't know a lot of other female cops outside of Uncle Danny's partner."

Frank smiled, "Well there's more and more females in the department; every year they are a larger percentage of the academy class."

"Really?"

"Really." He nodded. He leaned back, "And, just like Detective Curatola, most of them do exactly the work of your uncles."

"How'd you get your job?" Nicky looked curiously to Abbey.

Abbey blinked, "I…" She glanced to the Commissioner, "Your grandfather asked me to do it." She shrugged, simplifying the story, "I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep doing what I had been doing so he offered that I could work here instead."

The Commissioner smiled, "That's why it's important to always work hard, you never know who is watching or where an opportunity may come from." He looked to Abbey, "Detective Baker helped work the President's visit to Ground Zero after 9/11. She stood out from everyone else that day because she was so organized and managed her assignment so well. It was a big part of why I offered her the job."

Abbey blinked back to him, "You never told me that."

He shrugged, "Well, I did mean what I said when you asked why; I liked your attitude." He smirked, "But it takes more than attitude to run an office."

She grinned, "Yes sir."

Nicky was still sitting thoughtfully on the sofa, "So no matter what I'd still have to start out on patrol?"

Frank grimaced, "Likely." He sighed, "TARU has some positions you could slide into if you are specifically looking to work on cyber efforts and the CSU team will have officers who never were on patrol, but that would still involved going to some pretty grisly places."

Nicky frowned.

Frank sighed, "Nick, honey, like I said before, you have plenty of time to decide what you really want to do. Work hard in school and pursue things that interest you. The NYPD takes people from all college majors. If you still want to be a cop at the time you're ready to graduate, the NYPD will still be here."

Nicky nodded, "I know. I just wish I knew now."

Frank grinned, "You may use the name Boyle at school but that impatience is pure Reagan."

Nicky beamed. "Dad always said I was more Reagan than Boyle."

Frank chuckled, ignoring the phone as it rang, "Well he got that much right."

Abbey smiled at the banter as she crossed the room to answer the phone by the couch.

"Police Commissioner's office."

"Baker, I need to get through to my Dad." Danny Reagan's tight voice came through the line.

"Sir," She caught the Commissioner's attention, "Detective Reagan is on the phone."

He broke away from whatever joke he was sharing with Nicky, "I'll call him back."

She smiled into the phone, "He's with your niece right now; can he call you back? Or can I pass something along for you?"

"I don't care if he's with the Pope." Danny ground out, surprising Abbey with his intensity, "I need to talk with him."

"O,okay Detective." She stuttered and looked back over to the desk.

"Sir?" She tried to inject as much gravitas as possible into the short word.

The Commissioner picked up on it right away, the amusement shedding from his face as he picked up the handset on the desk, nodding for her to hang up hers.

"Detective." He greeted sternly, waiting a beat.

He glanced at his watch and replied to an unheard question, "I don't know, sometime after 7. Maybe 8 or later. There's a chance the girls and I will get dinner in the city."

His brow furrowed, "Why?...Danny, what's going on…" He stood up from his chair, bracing one hand against the desk, "What? What _about_ Jamie?...What does Joe have to do with…"

He glanced to Nicky and frowned, "Okay, I'm on my way. Don't either of you go anywhere and don't start in on any of this with Pops until I get there."

He put the phone down and grabbed his coat, "Baker, tell my detail I'm going home." He gestured to the paperwork on his desk, "I'll come back in and deal with this later."

He grimaced to Nicky, "I'm sorry sweetheart, looks like dinner's out of the works for tonight. Come on, I'll drop you at your Mom's office, it's after 4, she should be done in court any minute now."

Nicky frowned, "I can't come with you to meet up with Uncle Danny?"

He shook his head, "Not this time."

Nicky pouted but put her notebook back in her backpack.

Abbey looked him over as he waited, the grim face he wore now contrasted starkly with the lighthearted moment he had just been sharing with his Granddaughter, "Everything okay?"

He heaved a heavy sigh and bounced his eyebrows, "We'll see." He answered forebodingly, opening the door and following Nicky out, leaving Abbey alone in the empty office, the setting sun reflecting off the medals on the walls.


	26. Agitation

_A/N - Blue Templar episode. This chapter goes through the episode. The episode starts with the meeting at the house alluded to in the previous chapter. This picks up the next morning; it's on Netflix if you haven't seen it recently  
Contains references to episodes and this story's self-canon abound. There will be one or two chapters that follow up the episode. _

* * *

"Morning." Garrett offered cheerily, heading toward the Commissioner's office, not breaking stride.

Abbey stood up, "You can't go in there."

Garrett jerked himself to a stop just shy of the door, "Why not?" He glanced at his tablet, "He doesn't have anything scheduled."

"Unscheduled meeting." She replied shortly.

"With whom?" He asked.

She raised an eyebrow at him as she sat back into her chair.

He rolled his eyes, "You know I'll find out later anyway, why hide it now?"

"I _don't_ know that." She corrected with a friendly smile, "And protocol."

Garrett shook his head but was cut off from replying as Don Sperling exited the office giving a short nod to Abbey as he left.

Garrett turned a raised eyebrow to her, "The DEA?"

She looked to the ceiling exasperatedly but was saved from replying when her intercom buzzed with the Commissioner's voice, "Baker."

She shrugged to Garrett, collected her notepad and sidestepped him into the office.

The Commissioner's elbows leaned heavily on the desk, his eyes red and tired, unfocused in deep thought, and mustache rolling over a pinched frown.

He glanced up as Baker approached the desk and he stiffened when Garrett followed her.

"The DEA, Frank? Is this about that ambush in the drug den last night?" Garrett asked curiously.

Frank tightened his mouth and straightened, eyeing Garrett soberly, "Can you give us a minute please?"

The DCPI raised his eyebrows, "Um, sure, okay." He frowned and backed out the door.

Abbey blinked at the curt dismissal. Her instincts began to whisper in the back of her brain and she clenched her teeth, looking over the Commissioner with concern.

He waited for the door to click shut before looking to Baker, "It goes with out saying that everything I am about to tell you is absolutely confidential."

She nodded.

"But you'll notice I'm saying it anyway." He intoned, staring her down, "It's that important."

She swallowed, "Of course, sir."

"A DEA informant was one of the ones killed in last night's heist." His voice was heavy.

Abbey raised her eyebrows, "Oh."

"And," The Commissioner exhaled and rolled his eyes ruefully, "They have tape of him colluding with an NYPD detective."

"Colluding?" Abbey blinked in disbelief.

Frank nodded, "Sperling says they believe that multiple members of the NYPD were in business with the men who were killed."

Her eyes widened and she lowered herself into one of the chairs. "What do you need from me?"

"There was a similar, smaller raid in Brooklyn South last weekend." He grimaced, "I need whatever information the investigating detectives put together in that case."

Abbey nodded, making note, "Right away."

She started to stand but the Commissioner gestured for her to standby, "I need a few more things." He waited for her attention, "I need you to do the following without raising any red flags; as quietly and discretely as you've ever done anything in your life."

She narrowed her eyes, tensing, "Okay…"

He pursed his lips, staring at her silently for a moment and she shifted uncomfortably.

"I want any video surveillance from the block where Jamie had his car parked on Sunday night." The Commissioner handed her a small card with an address printed on it. He grimaced, "I also need the medical examiner's report on the death of Detective Lydia Gonsalves from earlier this year as well as her complete service record."

Abbey blinked, "The detective who killed herself?"

The Commissioner froze, staring back at her, clenching his jaw. If Abbey didn't know better she would say he looked unnerved, but she immediately dismissed the thought; there was nothing she could do that would make him nervous of her.

Still, he looked down, taking in a deep breath and looking back with apprehension, "Did you know her?"

Abbey nodded, "Ages ago. We were both patrol in Manhattan South for about 6 months before she got promoted." She shrugged, "Women patrolmen tend to find one another in the social scene."

Franks' eyes stayed tense, "Did you stay in touch?"

"Not at all." Abbey shook her head, "First time I saw her after that was…" She bit her lip, realizing, and wincing "That night, with Joe."

Frank swallowed, the pain flaring freshly across his face.

He looked down and used two fingers to rub at the bridge of his nose, "Okay." He breathed out and when he looked back up he pierced her with a stare that made her suddenly feel like she knew what it was to be a perp in the interrogation room.

"A few years back you mentioned familiarity with the happenings of Gamma Delta Phi." He kept tense eyes steady on her.

She blinked at the apparent non-sequitur and tilted her head, "Yes sir, but they haven't been a thing for a while now." She tried to dismiss the tension with a smile, "Everyone started getting married and having kids."

The Commissioner did not match her mirth, "You familiar with any other group?" He asked evenly.

Her smile faded and she shook her head vehemently. "No sir. Even G-D-P I backed away from once I started working for you. I didn't think it would look right for the Chief's primary to have a regular drinking crew."

He regarded her carefully but said nothing. Silence sat between the two of them with the only movement being an agitated fidget of the Commissioner's thumb. Never before had she ever felt truly intimidated by this man but in the moment it felt as if he were reading through every secret she ever kept. Abbey scanned her mind for what could possibly be of such dark interest to the PC and what any of it had to do with the dead DEA informant.

She sat forward in her chair, trying to transmit as much earnestness as possible,"Sir, I'm not sure what you're looking for but other than the informal Woman's group in the PBA and the 1PP book club I don't have any kinds of group associations; social or otherwise."

His gaze never wavered, a slight pulse narrowed an eye, judging her. He took an audible breath and some of the tension eeked away. "Alright."

She wasn't sure if he was speaking to her or more to himself.

He gave a subdued nod, "I'm sorry."

She half shrugged her confusion, "Nothing to be sorry for, Sir." She frowned, "I'm just not sure why you're asking."

He shook his head, "Not important."

She bit her lip but decided against pushing the issue. "So I'll get you the report on the Brooklyn South raid, the street surveillance and Detective Gonsalves' information." She looked up, "Anything else?"

He nodded, focused on his hands, now fidgeting with a pen, "I also want the service record of Detective Sonny Malevsky and any information you can find on a female FBI special agent operating in Manhattan with the surname Anderson."

"FBI?" Abbey looked up from her notes, unable to keep her puzzlement to herself, "Sir, what is going on?"

He shook his head, "Not right now." He looked up and his slate eyes were practically pulsing with simmering energy. "Soon. But..." He tensed his jaw, "I need to get a better handle on this first myself."

She swallowed and nodded, "Of course." She looked over her list and frowned. Most times she utilized the rest of the Commissioner's squad to collect the information he requested but the sensitivity of the matter spoke against that.

"What if I need help getting some of this?"

"You can use Nuciforo." He grimaced, "That's it."

"Yes, Sir." She nodded, and stood as his blackberry rang. As she stepped out the door she overheard the Commissioner answer with a terse, "Danny, What do you have?"

She exhaled on the far side of the door, frowning when she noticed Garrett standing at her desk anxiously.

"I was sent away." He moped light-heartedly.

Abbey tried to put on a disarming smile despite the sense of dread just instilled in her by the Commissioner.

"It's going to be one of those days Garrett, I'm sorry." She shrugged past him.

He eyed her with confusion, "What do you mean ' _One of those days'_?"

She sighed, "One of those days where the PC is going to be very busy but there isn't going to be much 'Public Information' coming out of his office."

"So I _am_ being shunned." Garrett grumbled, "He should know just because I'm the DCPI doesn't mean that everything I'm told becomes public information."

Abbey shook her head, "What ever that's going on, he is playing it very close to the vest." She explained, "I have assignments that I'm not allowed to talk about and I don't know why or how any of them fit into the big picture."

Garrett's pout morphed into a look of concern, "Do you think he's okay? He looked like he hadn't slept all night." He glanced to the closed doors, "Is there at least something I can do to help?"

Abbey smiled honestly, "The best thing you can do is make sure there are no waves. If it doesn't absolutely need to make it to his desk just take care of it yourself and give him some space to do whatever it is he's working on."

* * *

The mystery of what the Commissioner was working on continued through the day; he remained locked in his office, combing through the material she brought him. And the more information she found, the more confused she became.

The investigation of the Brooklyn South raid yielded no leads and seemed headed for cold case files. Detective Gonsalves' service record was clean, with a few commendations. Her sudden resignation from the job with seemingly no real impetus the only real bit of interest. The medical examiner's report on her suicide was short and concise.

Malevsky's file was thicker, also with a few commendations but also several complaints. It wouldn't be uncommon for an active cop with so many collars to have a number of complaints on his record but Abbey narrowed her eyes as she realized the majority of them were withdrawn or seemingly resolved short of official process. Nothing nefarious about it; but it was a pattern which drew intrigue.

She ran into obstacles when searching for the FBI agent so she gave the project to Jim. She had never been fully informed of the complete background of the man she and the Commissioner trusted implicitly but she suspected he may have connections where she didn't. Her suspicions were born out when he passed by her with a thin green folder that he hand delivered to the PC.

It wasn't until she was reviewing the street surveillance of Jamie's car that she began to understand the Commissioner's unrest.

Jamie's account of the accident had been that the brakes had failed. There weren't many cameras on the block that had the car in view while it was parked but an ATM camera caught a figure in a hooded sweatshirt sliding under the car with something in his hand and then jogging away moments later.

When she showed the video to the Commissioner she braced for his anger and frustration. She was prepared for an order for more research to track down the figure and she anticipated a long evening at her desk.

Instead he pursed his lips and nodded, as if a suspicion was confirmed. He shut off the monitor and stood, moving for his coat, "That's it for today. I'll be in and out tomorrow." He looked to Jim, "We'll be picking up Detective Reagan on our way to Brooklyn."

And with that he was out the door leaving Abbey even more confused than before.

* * *

The tension of the day followed her home, anxiety keeping her tossing and turning. She apologized for disturbing Brian's sleep and prepared to go to the office early, the lure of productivity settling her nerves.

Despite the early hour the Commissioner was already in the office when she arrived.

She entered his office to find him to be an embodiment of the unrest she was feeling. Even more so then yesterday he was tense, moving with a jumpy kind of energy she hadn't witnessed in him before.

Instead of sitting resolutely behind the desk he paced behind his chair, his suit jacket tossed aside as if it were too restrictive.

"Baker." He greeted shortly, "Can you get me a list of everyone who was working on the Warrants squad in 2008 and 2009 and their current whereabouts and a list of the weapons used in Monday night's ambush?" He asked without preamble or explanation, "Be sure to compare them to the weapons used in the other incident in Brooklyn."

She blinked and immediately scrawled a note to herself in shorthand. "Yes, sir. Anything else this morning?"

His reply was derailed when by the ringing of his cell.

He picked it up sharply on the first ring, "Is he on board? …I'll meet you at the house…I'll make sure she's on her way."

He hung up the phone and looked at her, "Just that for right now." He grabbed his jacket and shrugged into it, "I may be back, not sure when, update me by phone as soon as you get anything."

"Sir!" She called out, stopping him before he reached the door.

He turned back to her.

Abbey bit her lip, hesitating.

"Baker…" His tone brimmed with impatience.

She squared her shoulders and looked back unblinkingly, "Sir. You once told me to reel you in if you went too far on a detour."

He grimaced, "That's not what's happening here."

"Sir…" She narrowed her eyes, her concern radiating.

He shook his head, "Not this time Baker. Stay by your phone today."

He gave her a succinct nod and disappeared out the office door leaving her alone again.

She sighed and looked around the room, eyes tracing the various commendations and photos, coming to rest on the picture of the smoking North tower. That day was 9 years and 9 months ago but if she closed her eyes she could remember it like it was yesterday. Throughout that week, as seasoned men and women shattered around her she remembered the steadfast Deputy Chief. She knew he had to be exhausted and worn but he never appeared shaken or in turmoil.

She bit her lip worryingly looking at that picture. What now could possibly alarm him to the point of near fluster? The closest she had ever seen him to unbalanced was the night that Joe died. Certainly a few dirty cops wouldn't generate the same kind of agitation; even with the added mystery of what happened to Jamie's car.

She sighed. She trusted him more than almost anyone else, she would back him on whatever road he was going; she just wasn't sure where her responsibility to support ended and her responsibility to be concerned began.

* * *

She went back to her desk and began to put together the information he requested. With him out of the office the normally bustling alcove was incongruously quiet and sedate.

More pieces of the puzzle began to come together as she pulled the reports of the guns and noted the same guns were used in both the raids. She called the Commissioner and he sent her back to pull the IBIS reports. Her heart sank as she realized he was right, the Glock 9s had been in the NYPD system previously.

They had all been in a batch of guns slated to be melted down in January. Even worse, the signing Captain was an officer who used to be in the Commissioner's detective squad. When she called to inform the Commissioner she could hear the pain in his voice.

She still wasn't sure of the big picture but this added piece of personal betrayal didn't make her feel any better.

* * *

Mid afternoon she looked up, surprised to see the Commissioner and Jim returning to the office. The Commissioner didn't say anything as he passed by with heavy steps, hands deep in his pockets.

She blinked in puzzlement when Jim followed the Commissioner into the office as opposed to staying at his desk.

The two men remained quietly locked away in the office for about 10 minutes until her intercom went off, "Baker, the inner office."

She grabbed her notebook and pushed through the conference room door, moving to the secure private office.

Jim was sitting in one of the visitor chairs in the tight room so she slid into the second, silently waiting for what was next.

The Commissioner clasped his hands together on the desktop, eyes steady. "I need you to start a case file. Things are going to start happening quickly and we need to stay by the book; get this locked down tight."

She nodded as he handed her some papers.

"These are surveillance warrants on Detectives Malevsky and Camia as well as my authorization for the use of GPS equipment by Detectives Reagan and Curatola." He passed over another page, "This is the affidavit for the warrant application. Keep that in there, we'll be adding to it with in the next day or two."

She raised an eyebrow at his signature on the affidavit but said nothing as she slid the sheets into her notebook.

He looked to Jim then back to Abbey, "We're going to break up this little party as soon as they give us an opening but, as you may have guessed, we're not running a boilerplate operation here."

She smirked wryly, "I've gotten that sense."

He handed over a sheet of paper with 8 names and numbers, all ranked sergeant or higher, including one deputy chief she recognized from ESU. He gestured to the list, I need you to call the bottom 7 men and have them report to Deputy Chief Starnes. It is for an on call, potentially 12 to 24 hour tour; but probably much shorter than that."

He huffed a breath and looked at her, "Make sure they know it is a confidential assignment. Tell them it is a personal favor for me."

He swallowed, glancing at the list. When he looked back up at her his face was stone and his eyes were piercing, "Abigail, you can tell them we are going after the crooked cops who killed my son."

The room was silent. Abbey felt as if she had been tossed into a vortex. The edges of her vision wavered and she felt dizzy.

"Wha.." She had to try again because of a sudden onslaught of dry mouth, "What? Sir?"

He pinched his lips together and blinked against the moisture in his eyes, "Joe knew these guys were getting into some bad action. And they killed him."

She felt her face slack and she mentally reviewed the information he had requested over the last day and a half, "Malevsky and Gonsalves?"

He shook his head, "Not Gonsalves. We think that's probably why she's dead now too."

She knew her mouth was hanging open but she couldn't think of a single thing to say, of how to adequately respond.

She composed herself and looked to Jim and back to the Commissioner, "Who else?"

He frowned, "We know of 5, but there may be 10 to 20 in total." He tapped on the desk, "The Blue Templar."

She furrowed her brow, "The Blue Templar? You looked into them years ago."

He shook his head, " _Someone at IA_ looked into them. I just read the report I was given."

His tone was heavy with recrimination.

A spark of a memory stuttered in her mind and but she held her tongue unsure of how it fit.

The Commissioner sighed, "Danny is geared up and hopefully we'll be moving on it tonight and I'll need these men." He grimaced, "I need to ask you to stick around. Whenever this goes down I'll also need you."

She nodded resolutely, "Of course, Sir. I'll be here."

"Thank you, Baker." He sighed, "Jim and I are headed back to the house. We've been operating out of there to keep the profile low."

"We?" She clarified.

"Less you know the better." He grimaced, "It's not a matter of trust, but in case this goes south…"

She frowned but didn't argue.

The men stood and she followed suit, looking between the two of them.

Frank nodded, "I imagine you'll be hearing from us through the evening."

"Yes, sir." Abbey nodded, "Whatever you need."

He nodded his appreciation and she led the way out of the small space.

Garrett stood near the office doorway, watching the three of them exit. Jim and Frank passed without a glance and disappeared into the elevator.

Garrett looked back to Abbey with raised eyebrows, "Operation-Frank-Gets-Secretive still in full effect I assume?"

Abbey tried to grin, despite feeling her chin quiver.

Garrett noticed and immediately softened, "Baker…" He glanced back to where the PC had disappeared and then looked back to her, "What's wrong?"

"A lot." She swallowed.

She shook her head and gave Garrett a watery smile, "It will be over soon."

"You sure you don't want to let me in on what's going down?" He tilted his head, looking at her kindly.

She fought against the desire to let her face crumple, "No, I'm not sure." She shook her head, "But I can't. Not yet."

She frowned as Garrett tried to mask a pained expression.

"I promise to have him loop you in as soon as he's ready." Abbey grimaced. "He's just…" She sighed, "He can't see very far past the facts at hand at the moment."

"So it's personal." Garrett surmised.

"Very." Abbey confirmed.

He nodded. "I get it. Just…let him know I'm here for him if he needs."

She nodded. "Of course."

"Okay Detective." He grinned, "I won't keep you from your work."

"Thank you."

He left the room with a concerned glance over his shoulder as Abbey settled into her chair.

She pulled out the list that the Commissioner had given her and called the men about the confidential standby assignment. She didn't need to get past that it was a personal favor for the Commissioner before they each quickly promised to be there. When she told them why, their eager willingness turned into dark resolution.

She was finishing with the last man on the list when Erin arrived.

"Hi Baker." She smiled wanly.

"Erin." She greeted evenly. She had seen the ADA's name on the surveillance warrants so she knew the Commissioner's daughter was informed on some level but she wasn't sure how much.

Erin produced a bag of Chinese food, "I figure Dad is keeping you here until we're wrapped up but you still need to eat."

"Thank you." Abbey accepted with a smile. The smell of the warm food reminding her of the lunch she didn't eat.

Erin grimaced, "I wish I were just bringing you food; I'm also playing Reagan Courier Service. Here are three more surveillance warrants and a couple of arrest warrants on the gun receiving you tracked down."

Abbey accepted the papers and slid them into the case file, "They're being arrested just on the gun charge?" She asked hesitatingly.

Erin shook her head, grabbing an egg roll, "That's the fall back position. Danny and Jackie are still out there hoping to break open the big picture."

Abbey nodded in understanding.

Erin also held out another sheet, "I'm told you speak Spanish?"

"Some..." Abbey tilted her head, waiting.

"Camia's wife is on this flight to Madrid." Erin gestured to a flight manifest, "We think she is traveling with the majority of his cut of the cash. We need to have customs in Madrid pull her once she deplanes and interrogate her regarding her husband."

"I can make that call." Abbey agreed, moving to look up the number on her computer.

Erin stopped her, "Detective. It's a seven hour flight; there's time for noodles first."

* * *

"Mil gracias, adios." Just under an hour later she wrapped up the call to Spain and smiled to Erin.

"They have her flagged and will detain her as soon as she arrives. There is an ILP officer in Paris who is going to come down to run the interrogation." She smiled, "Apparently he used to work with Joe."

Erin nodded, impressed, "Small world."

Abbey grinned, "At least it is when it comes to the Reagans and law enforcement."

Erin smiled back as Garrett returned to the office.

He looked uncomfortably between the two woman who sat back, waiting expectantly.

He sighed, "I know you're not going to want to hear this but something's come up that absolutely can't stay off the Commissioner's desk."

Abbey pushed the phone aside and looked back at him, waiting.

"Jamie just shot a guy." Garret said plainly.

Erin leaned forward, "What?"

Garrett held up a placating hand, "It's all okay. He was providing security for a kidnap victim. He shot the guy trying to kidnap her again. It was non-fatal and the perp didn't shoot back. Jamie's fine…but Frank will still want to know."

Abbey bit her lip, hesitating.

Garrett tilted his head, "Are you serious?"

She looked to Erin who winced.

Garrett shook his head, "You really think that whatever is going on is deep enough that Frank wouldn't want to hear about Jamie being involved in a shooting?" Garrett stared in disbelief.

"He'll want to hear…" Abbey winced, "Just not right now."

Erin nodded, "Yeah, if we could let it wait? Maybe until the morning."

Garrett gaped, "Seriously, what is going on?"

The phone rang causing Abbey to practically jump out of her skin.

She frowned apologetically at him while answering the phone, "Police Commissioner's Office, Detective Baker."

"Baker." The Commissioner's voice came through, "What was the name of the bar in Queens that was in the IA report on the Templar?"

She held the phone against her shoulder with her chin and pulled the old folder from the stack on the side of her desk, scanning down the report until she came to what she was looking for.

"Bantry Bay Pub on Greenpoint."

"That's it." His voice pulled away from the phone, "Jim, Bantry Bay. Greenpoint."

"Thanks Baker." He spoke back into the phone. "We're rolling."

"Good luck, Sir. Get these guys."

"We will."

She hung up the phone and looked between Erin and Garrett. "It's almost over."


	27. Incertitude

_A/N - Blue Templar chapter 2 - episode tag. One more BT chapter after this. This chapter has references to chapters 4, 7, 14, 15, 25 & 26\. Thanks for your patience - holidays and travel make it hard to write!_

* * *

September 16, 2001 Abbey was hustling down the steps of St Paul's when a late 60s silver Chevrolet pulled up, parking in front of the church.

Abbey looked up and down the otherwise empty road, aghast. She drew the attention of the driver, "Um, Excuse me! You can't be here! This whole area is still closed. How did you even get in?!"

The driver's door opened revealing a young man with a strong jaw and striking hazel-blue eyes. He flashed a confident smile and his eyes traced her face for a beat, smile growing. "No worries; I was waived in." He gestured to the church turned refuge for first responders, "I'm making a much needed delivery."

She noted his closely cropped hair and muscular build, "You on the job?"

"Not yet." He shook his head. "But with luck I will be this time next year."

She tilted her head in question.

He shrugged, his hands disappearing into his pockets, "Most my family is NYPD."

She glanced him over, judging him to be mid 20s, "Taking your time?"

"It's not exactly any of your business, _but_ you _are_ awfully cute." He grinned and she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

He sighed in defeat, "Alright. Yeah. I had been on track to join the FBI. But after this week…" He swallowed and looked away towards Ground Zero. He looked back to her with firmed lips and a shake of his head, "It wasn't the FBI going into those buildings."

Abbey's breath caught in her chest and she blinked.

The young man looked back to her with a deep burning intensity, "My old man is pretty high brass, he could have stayed in the office but he went down there. He spent the morning in the North Tower; saved dozens of lives and has been working around the clock since. My brother drove in after the collapse and has been here all week in between his regular tours. Even my retired grandfather was here for half the week."

He gave a single, convicted nod, "I filled out my application on Wednesday."

She couldn't help but smile, "I'm sure your family will be very proud to have you join them."

He nodded thoughtfully, "I hope so; _I'm_ awfully proud of _them_."

Her heart stilled at the earnest admiration the young man had for his family and the moment grew into a quiet reflection until she shook herself back into the moment.

"What are you dropping off?" Abbey gestured to the car, "Can I help carry something in?"

The young man's grin spread and he moved back, popping the trunk and pulling out a 30 rack of beer. "Thanks for the offer, but I can manage."

She raised her eyebrows.

He shrugged, "We try to have Sunday dinner together but Dad said he wouldn't be making it this week so my grandfather and I are bringing dinner to him." He smirked, "And we figured we best bring enough for the rest of the guys catching a break here."

Abbey smiled, "That's awfully nice of you."

"Beer, beef and potatoes is the least we can do." He gave a firm nod, "If any of them are half the men my Dad is, they deserve a whole heck of a lot more."

He squinted, "Wait, are _you_ NYPD? You should stay; Pops will be here with the roast any minute; my Mom made it so I promise it will be better than anything else you've had this week."

"Thank you." She smiled appreciatively, "But I have to get back to my precinct."

"Well, that's too bad, Officer…?" He shifted the beer and leaned against the car with a grin.

"Abbey." She supplied succinctly.

"Abbey." He repeated with a smirk, "Well, I'm Joe. Hopefully I'll be seeing you around Officer Abbey."

* * *

Abbey blinked out of her memory of the first time she met Joe Reagan. Erin had left to wait for news with her grandfather and Garrett had disappeared to pace anxiously elsewhere, leaving Abbey alone to stew in her memories of the charismatic young man.

It wasn't until after she began working for his father that she saw Joe again. That first year in 1PP Danny was on his first tour in Iraq, Jamie was at Harvard and Erin was balancing her growing career with motherhood and a faltering marriage.

Joe was the first Reagan whom she got to know in a friendly manner as he was the one most likely to meet up with his father at the end of the day or come by with Mary or baby Jack during the occasional weekends the Chief spent in the office.

Much about Joe changed over the years; at one point his hair grew long enough to curl and he sported a 5 o'clock shadow much of the last months of his life but he was always the first one looking out for his father, admiration worn on his sleeve.

And, he never lost that same confident swagger and flirtatious grin. In fact, there was only one time that he wavered from his standard modus operandi of a smile and flirt…

She frowned, thinking back to that strange visit before his last Christmas...

The sound of the elevator coming to a halt jerked her back to the present.

She looked up to see Frank entering, face dark and closed down, flanked by Jim whose eyes stayed transfixed on his charge.

"Write it up." Frank ordered, passing the desks, not sparing her a glance as he disappeared into his office.

Abbey's head swiveled and she stared wide-eyed at Jim. He gave her a solemn nod and she knew whatever had been set in motion had met its conclusion.

She breathed out as Jim picked up a pen and began writing on a blank legal pad. She followed suite, sketching out her own account of the events of the last two days.

Jim was still flipping through his memo book when she finished writing. Nothing had come from the Commissioner's office since he arrived and she stared anxiously at the door.

Memories hammered at her; the Commissioner's solo retreats at the end of Mary's illness, Danny refusing to let his father pull away the night Joe died, the simmering anger and pain he had exuded the last two days.

Standing with conviction, she moved around her desk and stopped in front of the closed office door. With a deep breath she carefully turned the knob and stepped into the dark office.

Only the lights of the city illuminated the room. The Commissioner sat in the corner of the sofa, still in his overcoat, hunched over, his elbows braced on his knees and his fingers interlaced in front of him.

A pen and blank legal pad were in front of him on the table next to an empty glass. A bottle of scotch stood on the table; seal unbroken.

He didn't look up when she entered and she took the few steps forward until she stood next to the armchair.

"Sir?"

His eyes moved to look up at her; they were red rimmed and stormy. He said nothing and looked down again.

Her lips felt chapped and she wet them, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. She brought her hands together and squeezed her fingers.

"What happened?" She asked, uncertain of what she wanted the answer to be.

His head tilted and he pursed his lips, releasing a long breath through his nose.

"There are some things a man thinks he knows about himself." He readjusted his arms across his knees. "And it all just got blown to hell."

She blinked and her head pulled back, struck by the vitriol in his voice.

She swallowed, "Do you want me to call Garrett?"

He looked up again, blinking and brow furrowed, "Why?"

"Because he's your friend." She tilted her head.

Frank shook his and looked down again, "I don't have friends."

"Sir…" She admonished reflexively.

"Mutually beneficial relationships." He muttered, "I gave up my rights to friendship when I took this job."

She grasped the back of the chair and gave a small shake of her head, "I don't think that's a right one can give up."

He looked up at her, eyes tracing her face for a long, silent beat.

"Maybe." He conceded. "I'm not sure of much at the moment."

"Sir…" She inhaled and tightened her grip on the leather chair, "What happened?" She tried again.

A heavy sigh was released and he hung his head. She thought he wasn't going to answer but he began to speak quietly in a distant tone.

"I was a damn good detective." He gave a single nod, "And even if it hasn't been easy, I liked to think that I am generally pretty good at this job." He glanced back up to Abbey and she nodded in agreement.

He exhaled and looked, unfocused, somewhere in front of him, "But even if I was wrong about that, I mostly felt confident that I was a good father." He leaned back and gestured with one arm, "I know I wasn't the best. There are a lot of moments I missed, especially when they were young. And I've been hard on them as a disciplinarian and as their boss; but I tried. I gave them everything I had. It's the most important job I ever had and I wanted to be good at it."

Abbey stepped around the armchair and lowered herself into it, leaning forward, "You _are_ good at it. Better than good."

He gave a few short, sad shakes of his head. "Apparently not." He leaned back, "And it wasn't until these few days that I realized how mistaken I've been about everything."

"Sir…" Abbey chided but was cut off by his dark eyes cutting sharply to her.

"This…cancer…corruption and greed…drugs…murder…it flourished under my command." He sneered, disgust painted on his face. "It was so pervasive that the FBI was able to see something." He clenched his jaw, "Even worse, my command was so poor and suspect that they didn't think they could come to me with their concerns. Instead they turned to my son."

His chin quivered and he took a halting breath, "And, apparently, somehow, along the way I lost or never had his trust." His mustache rolled as his head shifted to the side and self-loathing colored his tone, "He didn't come to me. I've been wracking my mind for anytime he might have hinted at it, been reaching out for help…"

Frank stuttered to a pause, taking a few shaky breaths. He grimaced, "It took nearly being killed himself for Jamie to come to me; but that's only after he went to Danny first."

He ran his fingers across his upper lip, pulling his hand into a fist.

"And so much for being a good detective. I went down there, I saw the crime scene where my son died and I didn't suspect anything; accepted whole cloth what was fed to me." He shook his head and glared at Abbey, "It happened in a rush, with potential witnesses just around the corner, a mistake had to have been made…there had to have been a clue…" He looked down again, "I just didn't see it."

He stilled and was silent for a long moment, lost in a memory. Abbey shifted in her chair.

"Oh well," He sneered, his tone suddenly imbued with malevolence, "Even if everything I believed on the job and at home is based on falsehoods at the very least I can grab on to the one constant of my faith and code of morality, right?"

He huffed. "Nope. I just encouraged an NYPD detective to take his own life." He shook his head, "Some good Catholic."

He pursed his lips tightly together and opened a palm and stroked it with his other hand as if searching for a stain.

He looked up with a scornful half grin, "So I'm sitting here, having a hard time deciding where to start with my affidavit. Any thoughts?"

Abbey blinked and pulled her jaw closed, unaware that she had allowed it to drop open.

After a beat, taking a deep breath, she leaned across the table, picked up the scotch and cracked the seal.

His eyes solemnly followed her movements as she poured a healthy finger of the amber liquid into the clear crystal. She picked up the heavy tumbler, glanced back to him and then tossed the drink back, closing her eyes as she swallowed and the smooth malt filled her with warmth.

When she opened them again the Commissioner sat, staring at her, mouth agape.

Slowly, very slowly, the corner of his lips tipped up. Abbey felt her face match his growing smile. He snorted a chuckle and she followed; soon they were both laughing harder than she could remember. All the tension and pent up emotion of the last 48 hours escaping through roils of laughter.

She braced herself against the arm of the chair, wiping away tears as the Commissioner pressed his hands to his face, wiping away his own tears as he took deep breaths trying to get back under control.

Abbey regained her composure first and moved to the bookcase, getting a clean glass and pouring some for him.

He was still taking controlling breaths and wiping at his eyes with his handkerchief.

He shook his head, "It's been officially too long since I've slept."

"And how long has that been?" She sat down in the chair, leaving her glass on the table.

He squinted in thought, "You remember when you called me about Jamie's accident?" He tilted his head with a smile.

"Sunday night?" She questioned, doing the math on the hours. "Sir, it's Wednesday…." She looked at her watch, "Almost Thursday!"

He bounced his eyebrows and nodded, "I know."

Two more deep breaths and the last of the laughter slipped off the commissioner's face. He leaned forward and picked up the glass she poured for him, looking in to the scotch, "I didn't open the bottle because I was afraid I'd drown myself once I did."

He took a long sip.

"You have people who won't let you." She assured.

He flattened his lips.

"A few weeks ago, I couldn't sleep." He looked distantly at the wall, "Pops called me on it. I admitted to him that sometimes I would get stuck on the burden that my son died on my watch." He rubbed his hands together, "I didn't realize how responsible I really was."

He shook his head, "Of everything that happened, my only question is why he didn't come to me. He didn't trust me." His chin quivered again and he sniffed, taking another long sip from his glass.

Abbey looked him over, his pain reverberating through the room. She allowed herself to be pulled back to the memory she had been considering earlier; the evening visit from Joe when his usual smile was replaced by uncertainty and anxious eyes.

Those eyes that reflected the same kind of shattered pain as his father now had and she was suddenly struck with the reality of what she had said to cause that pain.

She opened her mouth and then closed it, swallowing and taking a breath before trying again.

"Sir…" Her voice stuttered and she had to take a deep breath, "It's not your fault that Joe didn't come to you." She took a short breath, squeezing her fingers together to stop their shaking, "It's mine."

He looked up sharply, single eyebrow raised, waiting.

"I didn't think much of it at the time, and he said it wasn't anything to worry about, but about six months before the shooting…Joe came to me."

She could see the Commissioner's jaw tense but otherwise he didn't move.

"He asked me if you had met with anyone from the FBI recently. Of course I told him I couldn't talk about that and he was set to leave but then he asked me if I ever heard of the Blue Templar."

Frank's eyes narrowed and he sat marginally forward.

Abbey took a halting breath, "I told him I had heard about them only as part of a review we did here." She winced, "He was surprised by that and wanted to know what you found."

Frank looked down, "And you told him nothing." He sighed out.

She nodded, "Worse then that."

He looked up again.

She rolled her lips, stiffening her chin, "I told him that you had found nothing of concern but if he had questions he should ask Danny because Danny used to be involved."

Franks eyes closed and he swallowed.

Abbey's chin tremored, "Sir, I'm so sorry."

"When was this exactly?" He didn't look up.

She thought back. "Christmas time." She swallowed a sad smile, "Actually it was the night of the tree lighting."

Frank's eyes looked away, lost in thought. He gave a slow nod, "I remember that. He was here as we were leaving."

Abbey nodded.

"He made up some excuse, I knew he was lying but he didn't want to talk about it when I offered." He murmured, eyes unfocused, "When he caught up with us that night he would barely make eye contact with me."

Abbey recalled the chilly greeting Joe had given his father that night, "I didn't think you noticed."

Frank sighed and rubbed his palms together. "I noticed." He sighed, "I just was enjoying the night too much and didn't want to spoil the mood by causing a fight."

He looked down, "Baker, you don't need to feel any guilt for telling the truth when asked. I'm the one who blew off concern for my son because of some cheery lights and music."

"Sir," She shook her head vehemently, "It's because of me he didn't come to you. What I said could have given him reason to suspect you or Danny might be involved in covering over the actions of the Blue Templar."

She clenched her jaw, blinking away moisture building in her eyes, "He _did_ trust you; from the very first time I met him he had you on such a pedestal…" She hung her head, unable to look at him, "Had I just refused to tell him anything he _would_ have come to you. I know it…" She sighed, "And he'd probably still be alive."

Frank shook his head, "We don't know any of that."

She refused to look up, stuck in the horror of her own realization.

"Baker." He pushed for her attention, "Abigail." He tried again, the strange sound of her full name coming from him succeeding in startling her to look at him.

"It's not your fault. If Joe wasn't already hesitant he wouldn't have asked you to begin with." He frowned, "My son was a good cop trying to do the right thing. Maybe he was on his own because of distrust, maybe he was just trying to prove himself, maybe he was trying to protect the people around him…" He paused his eyes moist, "You and I both...We're going to have to just find a way to move past our insecurities."

She swallowed and gave a silent, stilted nod.

He grinned sadly, "Want some more scotch?"

A choked laugh escaped her and she nodded, "If I may."

He shuffled forward and poured more into both of their glasses, "It's not good to drink alone."

She smiled and accepted the glass, sipping on the liquid as her eyes traced around the room, remembering Nicky's innocent fascination with the Commissioner just a few days ago.

"Where is everyone else?" She questioned, breaking the silence.

"Central booking." He grimaced, looking into his glass. "We made a lot of arrests tonight."

She winced. "Erin said she'd be in Bay Ridge with your Father."

He nodded, "I called him from the road." He sighed, "I was pretty succinct, he's probably expecting me to call back."

Abbey waited silently. Frank fidgeted with his glass and placed it back on the table.

"Not yet." He shook his head, "I still don't…" He sighed. "It's all just a mess."

"We'll fix it." Abbey assured.

He smiled sadly at her and nodded slightly. "Yes, I suppose we will."

He leaned back and let his hands fall, slapping onto his knees, "Think Garrett is still around?"

She smiled and nodded, "Oh, I'm pretty sure."

"I suspect he hasn't been too happy being cut out these last few days?" Frank winced.

She rocked her head, "Concerned is more like it."

"Alright…" He sighed ruefully, "Let's pull him in and get to work cleaning up this mess."


	28. Contention

_A/N - Final BT chapter. I often wonder why people like the Inspector General in season 4 and Rev Potter in season 7 don't know that the Commissioner's son was killed by dirty cops. I supposed there was a debate between what was the right thing for the family and the right thing for the department when it came to how to deal with the fall out from this episode's events. THANK YOU FOR YOUR READING AND SUPPORT!_

* * *

The silence in the room was oppressive.

After calling Garrett up to the office Abbey had relocated to the armchair on the far end of the coffee table and watched silently as the Commissioner summarized all that had happened in the past 48 hours.

For his part, the DCPI's suspicions had prepared him for something big but he had clearly not anticipated all that the Commissioner had to say. He sat wide-eyed and stiff-spined, listening intently, lips downturned. His eyes hadn't left the Commissioner who had remained in his hunched position on the couch throughout his narrative.

Neither man had spoken a word since Frank had finished his story and Abbey waited for what was next. She swallowed and forced herself not to shift in her chair.

After nearly 2 minutes Garrett finally broke the silence, "Are you okay?"

Frank snorted, "I'm fine."

"Frank..." Garrett pressed.

Frank looked up, frowning and shaking his head, "I…don't know _what_ the hell I'm supposed to be right now."

Abbey looked down, taking in a shaky breath.

"How many?" Garrett asked, accepting Frank's ambiguity and moving on.

"Hrm?" Frank raised his eyebrows.

Garrett rolled his shoulders, "At the bar. The…" he gestured, "…Party you broke up. How many cops?"

Frank looked down, "12." He clenched his hands together, "12 cops." He kept his focus on his hands, "Including Alex Bello."

"From IA?" Garrett asked immediately before Abbey could.

Frank nodded, "Yep."

He heaved a heavy sigh and sat back, eyes downcast.

"So…" Garrett prodded.

Frank shrugged, "So, this still needs to stay internal." He grimaced, "I am not naïve enough to assume everyone involved was there tonight. But, apparently, the circle of people I can trust is smaller than I thought."

Abbey frowned, "Where do you need us to start?"

"At least some of this is going to become public very soon…" Frank started.

"You can bet on that." Garrett interrupted, rubbing at his forehead.

Frank glared at him, "So," he continued, "We need to start handling this as by the book as possible. Which means bringing in IA to review everything that just happened."

"But if you don't know who you can trust at IA…" Garrett extrapolated.

"Exactly." Frank sighed.

Abbey bit at the inside of her cheek, "Chief Franklin has always seemed supportive." She recalled his defense of Danny's actions during the Campos case, "And sensitive to complicated issues."

Frank nodded, "That was my thought too." He scratched behind his ear, "But I thought the same of Bello." He glanced to her, "I hate to admit it but I'm not feeling like giving too many people the benefit of the doubt at the moment."

"I'll look into him." She volunteered before she even knew what she was saying.

Frank and Garrett looked at her with raised eyebrows.

"You're volunteering investigate a bureau chief?" Frank clarified, "How are you going to do that without making noise?"

She blinked, sparing the moment she hadn't previously to thinking it through. Realizing the simple answer, she shrugged, "I have access to all the activity anyone does using the internet in this building."

"Well _that's_ good to know." Garrett grimaced.

Abbey flashed him a roll of her eyes but continued, "I'm not investigating for legal proceedings so I wouldn't need a warrant to check his emails and online activity."

Frank nodded slowly, "And hopefully some of the guys arrested tonight will make statements giving us an idea of anyone else we need to move on."

"If it comes to anything certain I can get a warrant and go about it the right way." Abbey continued.

"Okay." Frank nodded, "You'll need to do it quick. I need a handle on Franklin before I bring him in and we need to do that before tomorrow's tv news deadline. That's less then 24 hours."

"I'll have something preliminary first thing in the morning." She promised, picking up her blackberry and beginning to make notes.

"TV deadline?" Garrett questioned, "So we're not even going to try covering this up?"

Frank glared at him.

Garrett held up his hands, "Just asking. This is not going to be an easy one, Frank."

"I know." Frank bit back, exhaustion and frustration coloring his tone. "But lucky for me I have a resourceful DCPI who is going to help make it as _easy_ as possible."

Garrett sighed in resignation. "I'm not a miracle worker Frank. 12 cops arrested for corruption and drugs and murder…It's going to be a fun story for the press to run wild with."

"Eleven." Frank mumbled.

Abbey looked up from her phone's screen and Garrett tilted his head, "What?"

Frank sighed and looked up, "Eleven cops arrested."

Garrett and Abbey glanced at one another.

"Sir…" She voiced the hanging question, "You said there were 12 cops there tonight."

He looked at her, his red rimmed eyes dark. He nodded, "There were."

"But only 11 arrested?" Garrett pushed.

Frank took a deep breath and looked to his hands, squeezing his palm between his thumb and fingers. "Detective Malevesky admitted to shooting and killing Detective Joseph Reagan. He also admitted to threatening the life of Officer Jamie Reagan. He apologized and then put a gun to his own head."

Abbey felt her own eyes grow wide and the tears she had kept at bay pressured at the edges.

"And you couldn't stop him in time." Garrett nodded solemnly.

Frank looked up sharply, "Stop him?" He pursed his lips and absently shook his head, "I didn't even try." He swallowed and looked to the ceiling, "I practically gave him permission to do it."

Garrett's mouth hung open and Abbey held her breath. The room felt frozen in time, not a sound until the Commissioner sat forward again. This time when he looked at Abbey she unconsciously pulled back at the simmering anger emanating from his gaze.

"I wish I could tell you I regret it." He gave another shake of his head and looked back to Garrett, "I _should_ regret it. But the only thing I regret is that I didn't have the chance to knock his lights out before he pulled the trigger."

He frowned, "I don't even care that he's not going to stand trial; just glad he has ceased to exist."

Abbey clasped her hands together in a failed effort to keep herself from trembling.

Frank's eyes followed her movement and he sighed, the tension and anger eeking from his frame, "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, "Don't be."

He looked to her and she tried to transmit her own anger and understanding through their locked eyes.

"Ohhh kay." Garrett interrupted, "So, now we have a dirty cop's suicide; that's going to just add fuel to the fire."

Frank sighed, "Yeah." He looked to Garrett, "So?"

Garrett shifted, "You're budget fight with the mayor isn't over, a new mayor is going to be coming in." He bit his lip, thinking, eyes resolved, "We need to keep any reporting specific and minimalize anything that can be blown up to negatively portray the department as a whole."

Frank nodded but before he could reply the door opened revealing Danny and Jamie.

Both men were still brimming with the energy of confrontation, their presence and quick, sharp movements contrasting with the previous quiet stillness of the room.

Danny led the way, smiling darkly at Garrett and Abbey, "Deputy Commissioner. Detective." He greeted as he stepped forward. Unceremoniously he dropped a cloth bag on the coffee table. It clinked and he grinned proudly at his father. "Commissioner. 11 shields, per your request."

Frank looked at the bag with something akin to disgust before pulling his eyes up to his son, "Where are they now?"

"At central." He grabbed one of the desk chairs and brought it to the coffee table, Jamie mirrored his actions.

"You managed to flip anyone? Get a written statement?" Frank asked.

Jamie nodded, "Everyone."

"Everyone?" Frank repeated, blinking in disbelief.

Danny nodded, "Yeah, they're writing out books. Didn't take any arm twisting at all; I think you've got them scared witless."

"Too little too late." Frank muttered.

Abbey looked to her boss, catching his frown as he looked back at his palms, fidgeting with his rings.

Jamie sighed, also watching his father. "We separated each of them and took preliminary verbal statements before providing them the time to write out something more detailed. The guys you brought in said they would take care of them so Danny and I could come here."

Frank nodded, "They're good men."

"Did any of the preliminary statements implicate other conspirators?" Abbey looked between the brothers.

Jamie nodded and looked to Danny who pulled out his duty pad and ripped off a page, "Not many, but yes. We have 4 additional members of the NYPD and 1 ADA who needs to be looked at."

He reached to hand the paper to his father but the Commissioner indicated Abbey and Danny handed it to her instead.

She glanced it over, quietly releasing a relieved breath that no one on the list was in the IAB or was someone close to the Commissioner. She looked to him, "Once we have the written statements I'll get warrants for these five."

Frank nodded. "Good. Thank you."

Danny edged to the front of his seat and looked around the small gathering with tension in his frame, "So. What's next?" He rubbed his hands together and looked at his father, "This mean we reopen Joe's case file and try these asses for murder?"

Frank grimaced and shifted, leaning forward and glancing at his two sons, "That's something we need to discuss."

"What's there to talk about?" Danny scrunched up his face, "Isn't that was what started this whole thing? Setting the record straight? Joe was murdered, not by a couple of crack heads but by that bastard Malvesky!"

"Who is dead now." Frank shot back. He exhaled audibly and leaned back, looking tiredly at Danny, "The question is what would be the point of re-opening his case?"

Danny's mouth dropped open and he blinked "So it reflects the truth?! To roast anyone else who might have been involved?"

Frank nodded, "There's that. Of course I agree that the investigation can't be over." He gestured to Abbey, "And Baker's already volunteered to take on the next step. If someone else was involved, we'll deal with it."

He frowned, "But we already have these guys on conspiracy for the murders at the drug house as well as trafficking and larceny and receiving the weapons out of property and whatever else their statements reveal; no one is getting off lightly here. What we do next will dictate what kind of media coverage we deal with. If we do something that generates a lot of noise and invites a lot of scrutiny then we not only make it harder for Baker and whomever comes in next, but we could be inviting unfair speculation over the whole department."

Danny shook his head, "And what about Joe?"

Frank cupped his hands together and pressed them against his mouth, his eyes in distant thought, "It was only Malesvky and Gonzalez out there that night. They're both dead. Reopening Joe's file could just be one of those things that makes a lot of commotion and brings attention to something that happened two years ago."

"And we don't want to do that?" Danny stood and paced behind his chair.

Frank watched him, "That's what I'm asking. What is the value either way?"

"Danny…" Jamie looked to his father as he edged to the front of his seat, "I think what Dad is getting at is Joe's death is already marked as killed in the line. But if we re-open the case and finger cops covering up a conspiracy…it's a public record …the PC's son, killed by another cop? …It's going to draw attention and then we're going to have the press making all kinds of big talk about murdering cops and the crooked NYPD." He shook his head, "Joe wouldn't want that to be his legacy."

"So what do we think is going to happen?!" Danny spread his arms wide, "We just arrested 11 cops and another just blew his brains all over a Brooklyn Bar. You think no one is going to notice?"

"They will." Garrett nodded, "But Jamie's right. It will be a different spin. And ultimately quieter if we keep the investigation and charges narrow to the present day."

Danny pushed against the back of the chair and paced away, "I don't believe you people!" He spun around and fixed his father with a glare, "You want to aid in this cover up?"

"What cover up?" Frank defended, voice rising, "We're not going to hide what happened tonight. But everyone involved with what happened two years ago is dead!"

"Not everyone!" Danny shouted back. He pointed at his brother, "Bello said he talked to Malevsky about Jamie before the brakes were cut on Jamie's car. You think that it wasn't the same with Joe? You think Sonny didn't consult with someone before he decided to blow my brother's brains out?"

"OUR Brother, Danny. Our!" Jamie stood up and glared at his brother. "And maybe he did. But if he didn't…" He shook his head, "We start talking about years of corruption and FBI investigations and cops killing other cops then this thing will become the next CNN expose and the whole department will be painted with the same brush. You're going to have people pointing fingers and the department _and Dad_ will become a punching bag in the mayoral election. It will be like Pops talks about with the Knapp commission in the 60s all over again!"

"You're unbelievable." Danny shook his head in disgust, "I thought you lawyers were all supposed to be about truth above all."

"Justice." Jamie shot back, "And I'm a cop now too. And a Reagan. And _I_ worry about how _my_ actions reflect on the rest of the NYPD and this family!"

"So that's it then?" Danny tilted his head, "If I disagree with you then it means I don't care about the family or the department? Last I checked, Joe was a member of this family!"

"That's not what Jamie was saying." Frank rebuked.

Danny rolled his eyes.

"Look," Frank gestured, "It doesn't have to be some state secret. I'm just suggesting that we don't need to invite more histrionics than necessary."

"You don't see it as an insult to Joe?" Danny crossed his arms then uncrossed them again, "To let it stand that he was shot by a couple of drug addicts as opposed to the fact that he was shot because he was a man of good morals doing what he could to fight against corruption?"

" _Or_ it will be that he was killed because he was alone in his fight because he didn't think he could trust anyone else." Jamie glanced to his Father, "Because that's the other angle to that will be told; That the department is so corrupt that a cop was killed instead of going up the chain of command, even when he had a reliable hook."

"That's not what I'm worried about." Frank mumbled.

"It's not?" Jamie turned to square up with his Father, "I _know_ I hurt you by not coming to you right away." He swallowed and looked down, "It's a choice I'm going to regret for a long time. But I _know_ why I kept it to myself. We'll never be sure about Joe and do we really want his reasoning to be the subject of media speculation?" He shook his head, "That's not something you should have to go through."

He looked to Danny, "And, Danny, I know you're hurting too. But broadcasting what happened isn't going to make anything better. It's not going to change anything; just make more people talk dirt about the police."

Danny dropped, deflated, into his chair, "It's just…" He looked away with a shake of his head. When he spoke his voice was quiet and broken, "We call every cop who is taken out in the line a 'hero'; But Joe…he really was one, more than most. It should be should be shouted from the rooftops. Everyone should know what kind of man he was and what he sacrificed."

"We'll know." Frank intoned. "And we'll tell Nicky, and the boys, when you're ready." He looked down, "That will have to be enough."

Danny ran a hand across the back of his head and looked across the table, "I'm sorry Dad."

Frank gave a stiff shake, "Don't be sorry." He waited for Danny to look him in the eye, "I'm angry too."

"So…" Jamie glanced between his father and brother, "What _do_ we do? Danny's right, it's not like people are going to not notice 11 cops being arrested."

Frank looked to Garrett, "Your turn."

Garrett straightened up in his chair, "We're going to start with what happened the other night and the DEA's report to the Commissioner yesterday morning." He looked at Frank, "You were notified of a potential problem within the department and within 36 hours an internal investigation had been launched and a small band of wrong doers had been apprehended and are in the process of being held accountable."

He shook his head, "No reason to bring up that you had any previous reason to suspect anything. Your reviews of the department and associated organizations are a matter of public record. You did everything right here."

He gestured to Abbey, "Hopefully we'll also be able to report an ongoing IA review of the investigation and that will necessitate limiting some of the details we can talk about, including the circumstances of Detective Malevesky's death."

"Danny?" Frank looked to his eldest, "Are you okay with that?"

Danny raised his eyebrows, "You're asking me?"

"I said this was a discussion, didn't I?"

Danny rolled his eyes, sighing, "I'm not okay with any of this." He grumbled, "But I get that there's no neat way to deal with it and that the reputation of the department matters." He clenched his jaw and glared at the Commissioner, "As long as we're not letting these sons of bitches off the hook."

"They won't be." Frank's tone was heavy and he shared a tense, dark look with his eldest.

Danny finally nodded, "Whatever is best for the department."

Frank's face tightened, "Thank you."

The group lapsed into silence again.

A knock at the door had everyone jumpy bemused grins were passed when Jim Nucifero entered.

"Detective." Frank greeted.

"Sir." Jim held out his notepad, "My statement."

Frank accepted it wordlessly, eyebrows rising as he flipped through over a dozen pages of Jim's neat, tight printing.

"Thank you Jimmy." He handed the notepad to Abbey who turned it over in her lap. "By the end of tomorrow we will probably be bringing in someone from IA so you may have to go over it a few more times."

"Yes, sir." Jim nodded.

Frank smiled, "Why don't you head home? It's been a long few days. I'll get Detective Reagan to give me a ride home."

"If you're certain, Sir." Jim waited.

Frank nodded, "Yes. Thank you."

He looked around the room as Nucifero left, "In fact why doesn't everyone call it quits for the evening? I think we've all earned some rest."

Abbey grimaced, "Sir, I'd like to stay and get to work on reviewing Chief Franklin's activities so we know where we stand in the morning."

Frank nodded, "Okay. Once you're confident, schedule a meeting with him, first thing."

She made a note in her blackberry even as Garrett gestured at her, "I'll keep Baker company. I need to start planning on this and IA's involvement is going to dictate what I leak to the key guys."

Frank smiled at Abbey, "Lucky you."

She grinned in return.

The Commissioner stood and looked to his sons, "So I guess we'll head back to Bay Ridge? Pops and Erin have probably worn a hole in the floor by now."

"Uhhh, actually…" Jamie fidgeted, his hands jammed in his pockets, "I need to head back to the precinct."

"What?" "Why?" Both Danny and Frank looked at him while Abbey looked sharply at Garrett who silently mouthed "Oh, yeah…"

"Ehh…" Jamie winced, "I got some paperwork to do that I kind of blew off."

"And it can't wait any longer? You've been off tour all evening." Danny pushed.

Frank tilted his head, "What is it, son?"

Jamie looked up at him, "I kind of...shot a perp earlier tonight."

Frank froze but Danny was the opposite, immediately stepping close to his brother, "What?! What do you mean you _kind of_ shot someone?"

Jamie held up his hands and took a step back, "It was a clean shoot and the guy is going to be fine. He was trying to kidnap a girl I had been detailing."

Frank closed his eyes and bowed his head, "When did this happen?"

"I finished talking to the detective right when you called me." He bit the inside of his lip.

Frank sighed, "And you didn't tell your CO you were leaving?"

"Well, technically I was off duty…" He shrugged.

Frank pinned him with a look that had Jamie shrinking into himself.

"Alright." Frank finally relented, "We'll swing by the 12th so you can pick up what you need and you can bring it back to the house tonight and work on it along with the statement we each should write. In the morning I'll call your captain and let him know I pulled you, _unaware_ that you had an ongoing incident."

Jamie nodded meekly, "Thanks, Sir."

Frank breathed out through his nose and tilted his head, "You okay?"

"Yeah." Jamie nodded quickly.

"First time you shot someone." Danny observed.

"Yeah." Jamie agreed again with a slight grimace.

Frank regarded his youngest carefully, "Pretty rough night."

Jamie looked back to him, "For everyone."

Frank looked away, frowning.

"Alright." He announced after a beat, "That's enough, we're heading out."

He nodded to Garrett and Abbey, "Garrett, Baker. Try to get home at some point tonight."

Abbey nodded, "Yes sir. And meeting with Chief Franklin will be the only thing on your schedule in the morning if you want to come in late."

He turned to her, narrowing his eyes, "Are you attempting to handle me, Detective?"

She shook her head and then glanced at his sons and put on an innocent smile, "No, Sir. Not at all. Handling you would be if I told your family that you haven't had any decent sleep in 72 hours."

The Commissioner's face morphed into a scowl as both Danny and Jamie spoke at once, "72 _hours?_ " "Seriously Dad?"

Her smile broadened, "Just let me know when you'll be in in the morning and I'll schedule the Chief."

Frank shook his at her before sighing in resignation and allowing his sons to push him out the office door.

Abbey and Garrett were left alone in the dark office.

Garrett was the first to speak, "Remember the last time it was just us in this office at night?"

She nodded, remembering the solemn evening after dropping off Danny and the Commissioner, when she had manipulated and delegated the Commissioner's upcoming commitments and Garrett began working the press to provide the most sensitive coverage of the shooting death of the Commissioner's son.

"It never did feel right, did it?" Garrett asked, his mind clearly in the same memory.

Abbey frowned, thinking of the smiling young man who used to visit her desk. She shook her head, "It never will."

Garrett nodded, "I guess, I just meant…doing something…having something come of it….there's some closure here."

* * *

In April 2009 Abbey had been distracted from her work by laughter coming from the elevator.

All four Reagan siblings appeared, Jamie being shouldered roughly between his two big brothers as an amused Erin walked a step ahead.

"C'mon cut it out…" Jamie squirmed despite the broad smile on his face.

"Not a chance, Kid." Danny jostled him toward Joe who reached up and held him in a headlock.

"Yeah, Where's the love Jamie-boy?" Joe grinned.

Erin rolled her eyes and gestured to the Commissioner's office, "Is he busy?"

Abbey smiled at the animated group but was saved from answering by the Commissioner yanking open his office door and glaring at his sons, "What the hell are you three carrying on about?!"

Joe relaxed his grip immediately and the three men hustled into some semblance of respectful office behavior.

"Sorry Dad." Danny quipped, a grin undercutting his sincerity.

At a loss Frank looked to Erin, "Care to explain what's wrong with your idiot brothers?"

"Hey!" Joe proclaimed, "We're not all idiots!" He grabbed Jamie's shoulders and shook him roughly, "Someone here passed the New York Bar Exam!"

Frank's anger immediately evaporated and he grinned at his youngest, "That true? You got the letter?"

"Harvard was good for something!" Danny lightly backhanded Jamie's stomach, "One and done, no retakes for this boy genius."

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon." Jamie struggled, giggling at his brother's harassments.

"We're taking him out for drinks to celebrate." Erin explained, "Was hoping you might be able to join us?"

Frank nodded, a rare, broad smile splitting his face, "I think I can make some time." He glanced at Abbey, "Right?"

She nodded, "Yes sir. You're clear until the mayor tomorrow morning."

"Good." He grinned, "I'll get my jacket."

Joe waited until his father had disappeared back in to the office before approaching Abbey, "You may want to push that meeting back; we're going to try and get him sauced tonight!"

"What are you saying to her?" Frank reappeared at the doorway.

"Nothing, Sir!" Joe jumped away from the desk, flashing her a wink.

Abbey just shook her head, "Have a good evening, sir."

"Thank you, you too." He nodded and stepped up to his youngest, "Big time lawyer now, that means you're buying, right?"

"Daaad…" Jamie squirmed.

Danny smiled and shook his shoulder, "Where you wanna go, kid?"

"Some place good!" Joe announced, grinning and miming lots of drinking and pointing at his Dad behind his back.

Erin swatted at him, "Some place _nice._ " She amended.

"Maybe to _start_ the night." Joe shot back.

"Kids!" Frank wrapped on arm around Erin's shoulders and another around Joe's, "Maybe we save the bickering until after we're out of the office…?"

Abbey smiled, watching the playful Reagans disappear back to the elevator. As they faded from earshot she shook her head, the smile remaining on her face.


	29. Forecasting

_A/N - On to Season 2! This chapter is preseason._

* * *

"So you land back at JFK at 8:05pm on the 3rd but Chief McRose from the events detail wants to know if you want to teleconference into the monthly meeting on the 1st or if we should reschedule for Sunday the 4th so that you can be briefed ahead of the Brazil and Caribbean Parades on Labor Day."

The Commissioner pulled off his glasses and grimaced as he ran his hand down his face. "Okay, wait, recap this for me again. We start in Berlin?"

"No sir," She corrected, "You land in Prague in the morning and then take a train that evening to Berlin. The next night you fly to Amsterdam after which it's a train to Brussels, another to Paris, then fly to Edinburgh and train to London before flying home."

He blinked at her, mouth frozen open.

She kept a straight face until he relaxed with a sigh, "And which one of those places am I on the 1st?"

"Paris in the morning and Scotland that evening." She smiled at his weary reaction. "They are 6 and 5 hours ahead of us." She anticipated the next question.

He rubbed at an eye, "Okay. Tell McRose…" he paused, reconsidering, "Tell him to hold the monthly meeting as normal. I probably won't conference in but you'll be here, right?"

"Yes, Sir." Abbey restrained her smile.

"Okay," He nodded, "You sit in and email me a briefing sheet I can read on the plane back." He smirked, "I can't make any promises as to my mental state on the 4th, best to avoid scheduling anything that day."

She smiled and looked down, "Yes, sir."

He braced both hands on the desk, "We done?"

Garrett shook his head, "We've been asked if we would send someone to testify in front of a Senate committee on gun violence in October."

"And?" Frank looked to the DCPI impatiently.

"And I think you should go." Garrett replied.

Frank stared back at him, wordlessly.

"What?" Garrett shrugged, "This is what the Commissioner _should_ be doing."

"Wasting a day in a room of politicians?" Frank groused.

"No…" Garrett shook his head, "Using your position to educate people as to the reality of issues that face our city. You don't want them deciding national gun laws based upon just what goes on in Kansas, right?"

Frank rolled his eyes, "They shouldn't be deciding national gun laws at all for just that reason." He gestured across the table with an open hand, "There is no one fit solution that works for both farming or hunting communities versus a city like New York!"

"And _I_ know that…" Garrett looked pointedly back at Frank, "But last I checked, I'm not in the US Senate so it's better if you tell _them._ "

The Commissioner rolled his eyes, "Why me? Why can't we send Ed? Or you?!"

"Because, Frank," Garrett sat forward, "Hines is the Chief of Department meaning that his job is managing the department which conveniently leaves the _Commissioner_ the time to do what needs to be done to advocate for the department and public welfare of this city."

"I'm not a politician." Frank groused.

Garrett shook his head, "Hate to break it to you, but you kind of are. And if you haven't realized it by now you need to take a step back."

The Commissioner pouted but said nothing.

"So…I'll confirm for you then?" Garrett gestured with his pen.

Frank sighed, "Fine. I'll go."

Abbey and Garrett shared a quick grin and she looked down to her calendar, "Do you want to try and fly to DC or do you want me to look at Amtrak?"

"Train." Frank shot back, "Always train if there's an option."

Abbey nodded and made the appropriate notes.

"Okay, _now_ are we finished?" Frank glared between the two of them.

"Gee Frank, in a rush? Got a hot date?" Garrett grinned.

Frank glared back and Garrett raised his eyebrows.

"The ball game tonight with the kids." Frank finally relented. "They got the tickets back on Father's day." A shadow of a smile flickered across his face before falling away completely, "And I'm already running later than planned."

Garrett cleared his throat, "Oh…well, sorry." His grin falter as Frank continued to stare impatiently, "I've got not much else really; just that the latest polls are in on the Mayoral special election, it's still pretty tight but the good money is on Carter Poole coming away with it."

Frank shrugged, "I don't put much stock in pre-election polls."

"Yeah, well, we're getting closer to reality." Garrett shrugged, "And maybe for most people it doesn't make a huge difference who is in city hall but around here it certainly does."

"So?" Frank asked flatly.

"So…" Garrett glanced to Abbey and then back to Frank, "A new mayor may want to bring in a new PC. What are you going to do, Frank?"

"Garrett…" Frank sighed, exasperated, "If Poole is the new mayor then he has every right to bring in whomever he wants for PC. There is nothing to be done about it either which way." He stood from the table with a shrug, "If we have a new mayor I will send him a customary letter of resignation. What he chooses to do at that point is entirely up to him."

He turned and left through the conference room door without further comment.

Abbey looked to Garrett, who frowned.

"Would Poole bring in a new PC?" She asked quietly.

Garrett shrugged, "Not if he's smart. His numbers are weak in the areas of security and law enforcement." He scratched the side of his head, "But he _is_ running on a platform of bringing more diversity to key city positions."

He pointedly glanced out the conference room window to the mostly white staff of people in the bustling office suite, "It wouldn't be a huge surprise if he wanted to change the face of the NYPD."

Abbey frowned.

Garrett gave her a small smile, "Don't worry about it. Everything I've heard is that Poole is a smart man who respects good work and is acutely aware of his detractors. The most likely outcome is he won't make any changes but he'll be a thorn in Frank's side pushing for more progressive approaches."

"At which point it will fall on the Commissioner to decide if its worth it." She finished Garrett's implication.

"Exactly." He nodded. "Poole would take a hit if he let a highly popular and effective PC go right off the bat; but if the PC resigns after a respectful tenure and Poole's hypothetical numbers stay high after he's been in office for a while then he could slide in whomever he wants."

Abbey glanced at the closed office door and sighed.

Garrett waived with an empty hand, "Regardless, it's down the road." He flipped his portfolio closed, "Just be glad that you're not coming along on Frank Reagan's European Tour from hell."

She smiled, clearing up her own notebook and folders, "You might have fun."

He froze and stared at her in disbelief, "Eight cities in 6 days? Listening to the same inane welcome message through translators and then trying to point out holes in city wide security systems to people who still think Stalin is going to come marching down the road if they put up cameras? Can you _imagine_ how grumpy he's going to be on those train rides?" Garrett shook his head and looked down to his notepad, muttering, "I'm going to have to hide with the luggage."

She smiled, "At least you have an evening in Scotland at the end of it all."

"If I didn't know better I'd say he scheduled the trip that way on purpose." Garrett rolled his eyes.

Abbey shook her head, "He may not schedule trip details," she grinned slyly, "But I do."

Garrett gaped at her before relaxing into a silent laugh and shake of his head, "God bless you Abigail."

"Just remember to bring me back something nice." She grinned, sashaying back to her desk.

* * *

"This was nice." Brian grinned at her from across the table two weeks later.

She nodded, wiping her lips with her napkin, "It really was, you'll have to thank Miles for the suggestion; this is a great place."

"I wasn't talking about the restaurant." Brian smiled, shaking his head.

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow.

He shrugged, "I just meant, this week. Being able to wake up with you every morning and have dinner together each night." He looked down, "It's been really nice."

She looked down, absently rearranging the silverware on the table, "I guess it has been a while since that's happened each weekday."

Brian nodded, "I can't remember the last time a date on a Friday night involved dinner and not just drinks."

"I'm sorry." She winced.

"Hey, hey, hey…" He reached across the small table, holding her hand, "I wasn't saying that to make you feel bad." He waited until she looked up, "I just wanted to let you know I really enjoy spending time with you."

She turned her hand over in his and grinned, "Well, I guess that's a good thing."

"I thought so too." He nodded, "And I know I promised I wouldn't bring up your hours so much since you stopped going out on detail all the time but still…" He grinned mischievously, "What'dya say you send Reagan on a week long EuroTrip every few months? Hrm? Does real wonders for your schedule."

Abbey rolled her eyes, "I think if I did that you'd be seeing even more of me after he tossed me out the door if I did that."

Brian smiled, "Alright, well, I guess I'll take what I can get." He stroked her hand with his thumb, "It was a nice week."

She smiled back even as her mind wandered.

"What?" Brian tilted his head, sensing her slipping attention.

"Well," She bit the inside of her lip, "We actually should talk about the coming months."

His brow creased and he frowned, "What are you talking about?"

She shrugged, "It's very likely that the city will be electing a new mayor."

"What's that have to do with us?" Brian shook his head.

Abbey shrugged and pulled her hands back into her lap, "The Commissioner serves at the pleasure of the Mayor."

Brian frowned.

Abbey looked back, "If there is a new Mayor he could bring in a new PC who will likely want to bring in his own admin team, just like Commissioner Reagan did."

Brian's face slacked. "So what does that mean for you?"

She shrugged, "I don't know."

He pursed his lips, "What do you mean, you don't know?"

"It means I don't know." She shrugged. "There are a couple different things that could happen; which is why we need to talk about it and what we want."

"I'm still not getting it." He shook his head.

"Well…" She shrugged, "I like to think I've proved to be an asset where I am and depending on who it is I could try and make a pitch to stay." She took a sip of her wine, "On the other hand I could put in for a transfer and have more control over the situation than waiting to be transferred to wherever they want to send me."

"Transfer." Brian repeated, "If you requested one, where would it be?"

"I don't know." She reached across and held his hands again, "We've talked about buying a place; where do we want to go? Brooklyn? Queens? It's not hard to transfer departments after the amount of time I've put in; we could leave the city; go to somewhere on Long Island and be closer to both of our parents."

He grimaced.

She smiled and squeezed his hands, "We haven't really continued that conversation about family..." She waited for his widening eyes to meet hers, "I could take a hiatus? If I use maternity leave and add on some earned time I could be home for nearly a year. I could use the time to study for and take the Sergeant's exam and hope to supervise a squad somewhere when I went back; it would still be long hours but I would have more control over my schedule."

"Wow…" Brian released a long breath.

Abbey grinned, nodding, "Yeah."

He rolled his head, "I didn't realize that there was so much riding on this election."

"Well, it's something worth talking about anyway." She shrugged, "It is going to come up eventually; it goes without saying that the Commissioner is going to retire someday before I'm done with the NYPD." She frowned, "And, if we wait until then to talk about starting a family, it may be too late."

Brian nodded, "Okay. You're right. This is real talk that needs to happen."

She narrowed her eyes, "But…?"

"But…" He grinned, "I'm not nearly ready to articulate what I think about it. Can we just continue to enjoy the night? I have a special surprise for dessert at home and I kind of don't want to spoil the mood with talk of politics, long term investments, retirements and Frank Reagan."

She smiled and looked around for the waiter and gesturing for the check. "I suppose talk about the future could be done in the future."

Brian grinned wolfishly and kissed the back of her hand.


	30. Ontogenesis

_A/N - Episode 2.2_

* * *

Abbey groaned and rolled over, squinting at the clock as she picked up the phone. "Baker…" She muttered, not bothering to clear the sleep from her voice.

"Detective. It's Detective Mitchell."

"Mhrm?" She nodded into her pillow.

"Uh, Just reporting the detail is rolling."

She blinked and looked back to the clock. The numbers blurred from her vantage but she knew it was too early for good news.

She sighed, "What happened?"

"An officer was shot. We're headed to Mt Sinai."

"Okay." She breathed out and rolled to her back. "Who is on call tonight?"

"Myself and Harris."

"Alright." She blinked a few more times. "Notify the DCPI and keep me posted when it looks like you're headed back to 1PP; I'll come in early."

She hung up the phone and put it back on the end table with her eyes still closed.

"You need to go?" Brian nestled into her side.

She curled against him, "Soon." She closed her eyes, "Tired; Just a few more minutes..."

* * *

"Baker." Garrett greeted with a smirk, "Nice to see you."

She rolled her eyes, "Morning Garrett."

He paused, "You alright?"

"Yes…" She frowned, "Why?"

He shrugged, "The PC's been going since 2am; usually you beat us back here."

She clenched her teeth, "It's barely 6am and I'm here." She picked up the folder in front of her and turned her back on him as she filed it away.

Garrett held up his hands, "Hey, I'm not saying anything, just asking if you're okay."

" _Tired_ , Garrett." She looked back at him, "It's 6 in the morning and I'm _tired_."

He backed away in mock surrender and disappeared in to the Commissioner's office without another word.

Abbey sighed and sunk into her chair. She hadn't meant to snap at him but he had hit at a sore spot; that morning wasn't the first early call she'd had since being on the job but it was the first time she had an earnestly hard time getting out of bed. Her body had rebelled against her sense of obligation and she had ended up sleeping another 2 hours after the call had come through.

Not that she necessarily needed to be in any earlier than usual; that was the exact purpose for having the on call rotation. And she knew that the Commissioner would not say anything but she was still frustrated at herself; Of all the days to be under the weather of course it had to be a day with an early call.

The dark cloud followed her throughout the day, only exceeded by the dark cloud over the Commissioner as Danny's incident continued to unravel.

Hoping for some positive news she kept in touch with Captain Elwood throughout his investigation but late into the evening there was still nothing good to report. She watched the clock tick past 9 and stifled a yawn. She was internally debating the merit of attempting to prompt the Commissioner to call it a night when the phone rang.

"Commissioner's office, Baker speaking." She answered automatically.

" _Eh, Hi Detective. It's Captain Julian from the 29th_." A gravely voice came over the line.

She frowned, glancing at the clock, "Yes, Captain."

" _Is the Commissioner still in?_ "

"He's not taking calls right now." She replied evenly.

He sighed audibly. " _Can you check in with him for me?_ "

"What's going on, Tom?" She questioned.

" _Eh...I've got Danny Reagan sitting in my squad room._ "

Her eyes went wide and she glanced to the closed door, "What happened?"

" _A couple of my guys rolled on a report of a suspicious vehicle. They found the detective sitting on a house involved in a case; but, as you know, he's modified._ "

She sighed, closing her eyes. "Okay. Hold on a minute."

She put the line on hold and pushed away from the desk.

Stopping in front of the door she took a deep breath and gave a single knock before entering.

The Commissioner was sitting at his desk, lips pursed and clicking his on his computer with far more force than was necessary.

"What?" He ground out, not looking up.

She frowned, swallowing a sigh.

He looked up at her, shoulders stooping.

"What's going on?" He asked, his tone softer.

"Captain Julian is on the phone." She gestured to his desk, "It's about Detective Reagan."

He froze.

Slowly closing and opening his eyes he turned his head to look at the blinking light on the phone. With a pained grimace he picked up the handset, "What's going on Tom?"

His frown deepened as he listened, his chin tucking closer to his chest.

After a long minute he broke the silence, "What do you expect me to say?" He ground out, "You know what to do." He grimaced, "Just...do your job. This shouldn't be the business of the PC."

He shook his head and slammed the phone down. He looked back at his laptop for beat and roughly swatted the lid closed.

Releasing a harsh breath he stared aimlessly forward for a long moment until he appeared to remember Abbey was still in the room. He glanced to her and leaned back in his chair, pressing one finger over his lip.

She clasped her fingers and tried to maintain a neutral look in return.

He sighed, "I don't know how much longer I'm supposed to be able to do this."

She frowned, "Sir?"

He opened his mouth then closed it again with a shake of his head, "Nothing. Never mind. It's late, why don't you head home?"

She hesitated, "Can I get you anything?"

He gave her a weak smile, "Have a good weekend."

She looked down and silently acquiesced, carefully closing the door behind her.

Fighting the sense of incompletion gnawing at her, she grabbed her bag and headed to the elevator.

A glance back at the closed office door had her changing her path and taking the short stairs to 13.

She hovered outside of the office of the DCPI, looking through the open door; Garrett's suit jacket was nowhere to be found, his blue suspenders standing out against his slightly wrinkled white shirt as he typed furiously on his computer, face frozen in a concentrated frown.

She knocked and waited for him to glance up.

"Baker…" His eyebrows knitted together, "What's wrong?"

She gripped the strap of her purse, "Are you busy?"

Garrett smirked and gestured to his computer with a meaningful raise of his of his eyebrows, "Wish I weren't."

"About Detective Reagan?" She edged closer.

"When is it not?" He groused.

Abbey looked down.

Garrett softened and his eyes looked her over, "Frank doing okay?"

She shifted her weight, "He was."

He frowned, waiting.

"He was better after lunch." She looked in the direction of the front of the building, "I think he met up with Danny."

Garrett rolled his eyes and sighed, "Of course he did."

Abbey smiled, "Yeah." She grimaced and tilted her head, "But if you have a chance, maybe you could swing by tonight?"

"What's going on?" Garret stood from his chair.

She shook her head, "Danny was just picked up working the case on the street."

"Damnit…." Garrett whispered. He shook his head, "It's always something."

She nodded, "I don't think he'd disagree"

He looked back to her, "One of those nights?"

"You could say that." She looked back dolefully.

Garrett released a long sigh, "It's not getting easier, is it?"

"I just thought I'd let you know." She readjusted her grip on the purse strap.

"Yeah...Thanks…" He nodded, grabbing his jacket and moving past her.

She watched him head up the stairs and sighed.

Feeling at a loss for any way to contribute she uttered a silent prayer that Garrett would know how to best support the Commissioner before heading for her car, shoulders stooped.

* * *

By the time Monday morning rolled around Abbey still hadn't been able to shake whatever bug had her dragging all through the weekend. For a fraction of a second she even considered calling out but she knew the IAB would likely be handing down their conclusions regarding the shooting and she felt compelled to be in the office for whatever limited support she could offer.

A few sips of gatorade and some toast seemed to settle her stomach so she blew Brian a kiss and headed to 1 PP.

She arrived to her desk just in time to watch Elwood and some heavy brass filter into the conference room.

As she settled into her desk she kept one eye on the windows into the room, trying to judge Danny's fate by the Commissioner's reactions.

His face remained pensive and concerned. She felt her gut twist as he ultimately stalked out of the room with a few short words and a frown.

If the report were as negative as it looked from his reaction, it was going to fall on the Commissioner's shoulders to dismiss Danny from the department and potentially even hand the case over to the DA's office for prosecution. She looked down, abruptly overcome with empathy.

Since the raid last May the Reagan family seemed to have bonded stronger than ever with a return of the weekly lunches with Erin and frequent post work meet ups with which ever of his children were available. Even as they continued to investigate previously trusted officers over the summer, the Commissioner carried himself with a lightness and optimism that hadn't been around since before Joe had died. There were more jokes and sarcastic quips in the office. It had been months since Garrett had even threatened to resign, never mind actually compose a letter.

The mood shift had been an unexpected and welcome change but the contrast had only made the frustration of the last few days even harder. Abbey was certain that if the Commissioner had to fire his son that it would be a long time before that lightness was back in the office, if ever.

She swallowed the unexpected lump in her throat and blinked angrily at the tears that suddenly seemed to press on her eyes.

The door to the conference room opened and she turned back to her filing cabinet to avoid anyone catching her unusually visible emotion.

She waited until the footsteps faded to turn back around. Unsurprisingly, Garrett was still there, hovering.

She bit the inside of her lip and looked to the folder in his hands.

He offered her a grim smile and held it out, "Danny's cleared for the shooting."

She felt her face slacken in surprise and eagerly accepted the file, flipping it open to glance over the document inside.

Officer Tedesco had sustained a serious concussion _before_ the shooting. He most likely did not identify himself, instead he would have appeared as an unbalanced and armed man; the shooting was clean.

She breathed out in relief.

"Well that's one thing." She smiled, handing the folder back.

Garrett nodded, "Now it's just down to how to deal with Friday night."

Abbey shook her head, "He won't keep Danny jammed up over that."

"I won't?" Both Abbey and Garrett's heads swiveled to the office door where Frank stood, frowning with his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

He peered at Abbey through his glasses, set low on the bridge of his nose.

She blinked back at him, a long moment passing before she realized he actually expected an explanation.

She glanced to Garrett and then back to the Commissioner, swallowing and giving a small shake of her head, "No sir. I don't believe you will."

"He violated his modified status." Frank volleyed back flatly.

She nodded, "Yes, sir."

"You don't think that matters?" He questioned, frown deepening.

"Of course it matters." She replied evenly."And you've made it clear you have high standards for yourself and your family."

She licked her bottom lip, buying herself a moment to decide how to articulate what came next, "But, Sir, you also aren't frivolous. Keeping Danny modified or suspended because he was sitting in a car in the wrong neighborhood won't teach him any lesson he probably isn't already cursing himself over, the department certainly isn't best served with him on the sideline and…" she winced lightly, "Sir, if I may say, it's not doing _you_ any good either."

Frank looked hard back at her and then redirected his gaze to the carpet. He took a long breath in through his nose as his mustache rolled with his grimace. He let out a short huff and nodded once to himself.

He glanced back to her, "Get Sergeant Gormley on the phone."

He turned and disappeared back into his office without another word.

She blinked then grappled for the phone before he had a chance to change his mind.

Garrett grinned at her as she dialed the 5-4 from memory. "You're a softy." He teased.

She shook her head as the phone rang, "He just needed help justifying what he wanted to do anyway."

"Well, I'm glad _you_ had something." He glanced to the door, "It's always 50/50 if he'll listen to me."

" _Gormley._ " The thick Bronx accent came through the receiver and pulled her attention away from retorting to Garrett.

"Sergeant, this is Detective Baker from the Commissioner's office. Can I put you on hold for the PC?"

" _Uh, yeah. Absolutely._ " His anxiety came through in his short reply.

She deftly switched the line, waiting until she heard the ring on the Commissioner's end before hanging up.

She gave a Garrett a short grin, "You know, we don't _actually_ know if he agreed with me."

Garrett breathed a short chuckle, "Of course he did." He looked to the closed door, "I mean…" His smile fell, "…Right?"

"We'll know for sure soon enough." She gave a slight shrug.

As she spoke the active line light on the phone blinked out.

A moment later she and Garrett both held their breath as the handle of the office door turned and Frank reappeared in the doorway.

One look and Abbey knew he had indeed listened to her. His glasses were tucked in his vest and his shoulders were relaxed as his hands rested in his pockets as opposed to being shoved deep and he wore a tight smile.

He glanced between them, "Okay. What's next?"

Abbey swallowed her grin and shuffled aside some papers to find something relevant, "Deputy Chief Terrance is available to talk about the Queens muggings and there are some details to be decided before you talk with the Secret Service about the President's visit next month."

He held out a hand, "Give me the dossier on that. Garrett come on in about this before you head back to...do whatever it is that you do."

"You mean keep you out of trouble with the 4th estate and by extension the rest of the city?" Garrett snarked with a roll of his eyes, not completely able to hide his smile.

"Whatever." Frank dismissed, clearly not listening as he glanced over the documents from Washington.

Garrett shook his head but pulled out his tablet and began flicking through files as he maneuvered around Frank and headed into the office.

The Commissioner started to follow but hesitated, glancing back, "Detective, if you want to take the afternoon off, you should."

She frowned, taken aback at the offer, "Sir? Why…?"

"You're still feeling sick aren't you?" He tilted his head, eyes glancing over her.

She blinked, then winced, "You've noticed?"

His mouth firmed into a tight lipped grin, "I _was_ a detective once too, y'know." His grin faded into something vaguely paternal and Abbey shifted uncomfortably, "Not to mention I've been a parent even longer; trust me, we develop a sixth sense for when someone's not feeling right. You've done a good job covering it but you haven't been yourself every morning for a week now." He shrugged, "Take some time to rest up and get back to 100 while you can."

With that, he disappeared into his office, leaving Abbey to turn his words over in her head.

* * *

The next morning Abbey dropped her head into her hands. "God…" she groaned.

She exhaled stiffly and picked her head up, glaring at the 5 plastic sticks lined up on the edge of the sink.

She dragged her hands down her face, rubbing roughly at her eyes. "This was _not_ the plan." she grumbled into her palms.

"Abs? Babe?" Brian knocked on the bathroom door, startling her. "You feeling any better?"

"Um, yeah." She grabbed some toilet paper, wrapped up the pregnancy tests and shoved them to the bottom of the waste bucket.

"You sure?" Brian asked. "Want me to call the office for you? Tell them you're taking the day off?"

"No, no…" She sighed internally. In truth she would love to spend the day on the couch in her favorite sweats but she couldn't exactly call out sick for 9 months; might as well learn to power through it.

She grabbed her toothbrush and pulled the door open, smiling weakly, "I'm fine."

He tilted his head, looking her over, "You sure?"

Unbidden, she felt her smile grow more genuine, "Yeah," She nodded, "I'm sure."

She stretched and gave him a small kiss on his cheek then moved past him to begin getting ready for work.


	31. Determination

A/N: Takes place within Episode 2.4

* * *

" _I want him_."

The Commissioner's tone left no room for argument. Abbey accepted the file and returned straight to her desk, reading the bio as soon as she was through the door.

 _Justin Armel 35 years old, living in the East Village, formerly of Canarsie before doing 5 years for assault and possession._

The file was pretty slim, there was a lot of basic information to collect before she even had the tools to know where to begin looking for open incidents. She frowned and scanned the sheet for the name of his former parole officer as she dialed the probation department.

Erin exited the Commissioner's office just as Abbey was wrapping up leaving a voicemail. She wore a reluctant grimace as she waited for Abbey to hang up the phone.

"I'm sorry about this." Erin gestured to the folder.

Abbey smiled, "Nothing to apologize for."

Erin bit her lip and glanced back to the Commissioner's door. Hesitating another moment she tilted her head back to Abbey, "Could I take you to lunch?"

Abbey raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"I can give you some more background." Erin shrugged, "We are going to have to pool resources."

* * *

"So you can see how she made the mistake." Erin explained placing Miles Thomas' picture on the table next to Abbey's plate.

Abbey shook her head, "Unbelievable." She finished chewing and looked back across the table to Erin, "I've placed a call into Armel's probation officer. He should be able to give me a place to start with jobs and any other residences in the past 7 years."

"Smart." Erin nodded, "One would think that a rapist would be most likely to reoffend after five years of forced celibacy." She frowned, "I just hope the trail isn't cold."

Abbey nodded firmly, "There is another detective in the Commissioner's squad whom I'll be able to pull in to help run some of this down."

"And I can make a couple of the DA's investigators available to you as well." Erin offered.

Abbey nodded as she mentally parsed through what needed to be accomplished and the best use of the human resource, "We can probably have them start with canvassing Armel's current situation; neighbors, coworkers, places he likes to frequent." She jotted a quick bullet in her notepad as she talked, "Santana and I will start with where he was once he got out from Green Haven and move forward in time from there."

"If we can nail him for something within the past 7 years that would be great." Erin agreed, "That would help avoid any other statute of limitations issues."

Abbey grimaced and glanced at the case file, "The violence against Elizabeth Fox indicates that he probably did a whole lot more in the 90's." She looked up, "He was only 17 at the time of her assault."

Erin shook her head, "I know, it disgusts me too." She stirred her soup, "Look, Detective, I understand that no case is easy and that this is ten times worse because you don't even know what crime you're looking for. I know there is a very real chance that we won't be able to come up with anything but it's important to my father and I really appreciate the help."

"It's my job." Abbey shrugged, "What's important to the Commissioner is important to me."

Erin smiled, "Right."

The ring of Erin's cell stole her attention, "Sorry, I need to take this, it's Nicky."

Abbey gestured for Erin to take the call and she picked at her sandwich as Erin answered.

"Hi Honey." Her smile slid away as she listened to her daughter on the other end, "Probably not tonight." She sighed and looked down, "I'm sorry, if you want you can meet me at the office or Pops can come get you." She leaned back and rolled her eyes, "I know, and we will talk about that later but for tonight can we just leave it?" She closed her eyes and nodded, again with a small smile, "Okay. See you tonight. I love you."

Abbey watched, involuntarily intrigued, as Erin's face crossed the range from affectionate to frustrated and guilty, all the while undercut with tender warmth as she hung up with her daughter.

Not wanting to be caught staring, she looked away as Erin hung up but her innate curiosity had her looking back again.

Erin caught the question on Abbey's face, "What is it?"

Abbey hesitated, "You stopped working when Nicky was born?"

Erin blinked, caught off guard, "Um, yes, kind of. I wasn't really invested in my career that point, I had only just graduated law school and was clerking for a municipal judge whom I didn't particularly respect."

"Oh." Abbey nodded.

Erin's brow knitted together and she looked back at the other woman curiously.

"Do you think…" Abbey hesitated, "It would have been easier if you went back to work when Nicky was still a baby as opposed to waiting until she was older? If you had to do it over would you do it the same?"

Erin's eyes narrowed and flicked across Abbey's face. A slow smile pulled at the corner of her lips. "Why do you ask, Detective?"

Abbey twisted her napkin in her lap and sighed, "I'm sorry; I just…"

"Let me guess, you're realizing you're surrounded by an awful lot of men?" Erin's smile grew, "I went through the same exact thing when I first found out I was pregnant."

Abbey's initial instinct was to deny it but she swallowed that impulse, leaving herself feeling uneasily exposed and unsure of what to say.

"That is it, right?" Erin pushed, "Congratulations are in order?"

Abbey gave a short nod, "Yes." She confirmed shyly. Unconsciously her hand slipped to her stomach and she felt herself begin to smile. "I only just found out a couple weeks ago, I still shouldn't be telling anyone but…"

"But it's kind of hard to keep it to yourself." Erin empathized with a knowing grin.

Abbey exhaled, "There's just so much to think about." She looked up, "It's not exactly a surprise but let's just say it's not exactly planned either."

Erin nodded, "Ohhh yeah. I understand." She sat back, "I assume since it's so early that you haven't told the Commissioner?"

The smile slipped away from Abbey's face, "I think I need to decide what I'm doing before I try to have that conversation."

"Hence the questions." Erin tilted her head.

"Precisely…" Abbey looked back up, "Sorry."

"Don't apologize." Erin shook her head, "Your world is upending and trust me when I say I can appreciate the panic that comes with realizing how little control you have over the plans you've made."

"Exactly." Abbey nodded, "I mean, I can talk to my mother but she didn't work and the few girlfriends I have either don't have kids or don't have jobs they are really passionate about."

"It can be alienating." Erin agreed, "I was so young when I had Nicky that I certainly didn't feel like I had anyone who could understand." She explained. "But I think you're right. As much as I loved having those years at home with Nicky, I think, for me, if I did it again, I would not have taken off as much time as I did." She frowned, "But that's also a side effect of the marriage I was in."

Abbey nodded, "Actually, as of now Brian is offering to be primary caretaker. He works from home most of the time anyway and he can cut back to only working the three and a half months of tax season without taking too significant of a cut in his income."

"Well that's a good arrangement." Erin encouraged, "And it wouldn't be hard to find part time nanny help during the months when he's busy."

Abbey nodded, "And I can schedule vacation time to help during those months and both of our parents aren't far away and his sister and her family live in Jersey City."

"Seems like you've got it all worked out." Erin nodded.

"Yeah…" Abbey frowned.

Erin's eyes narrowed, "But…?"

Abbey smiled in acknowledgement, "But…like you said, there is value in being home those early years. I'm afraid of what I'll miss."

Erin sat back, nodding, "I won't lie; that's the hardest part."

Abbey looked back at her.

"It doesn't change." Erin frowned, "I went back to work when Nicky became more involved with school because suddenly there was 6 to 9 hours a day when I was home alone and I could no longer justify ignoring the itch to work." She bit her lip and looked at her phone, "But even with her becoming more independent and invested in her own life, there are still so many things I miss."

"But you went back to work even though you didn't _need_ to." Abbey pressed.

Erin nodded, "I love my daughter, but I also love being an attorney." She smiled, "I suspect that is something else we can mutually understand; the feeling of being in the job you've wanted and worked toward for your whole life. Feeling like you're impacting lives and contributing to world in a way greater than your own existence."

Abbey swallowed and nodded, "It's a lot to give up."

"It is." Erin nodded. "And don't get me wrong. When you're holding your newborn in your arms you'll be willing to give up anything for them." She paused, "But I think that it's important to retain some of your own identity. I'm looking ahead and in a couple of years Nicky will be moving out and as much as I'm her mom, I need to know who I am outside of just that role because I think it would make supporting her independence even harder than it already is."

"I can understand that." Abbey nodded slowly.

Erin smiled, "And I _know_ just how the NYPD identity wraps itself around you people. It's not something easy to separate yourself from."

"No." Abbey agreed succinctly.

Erin grinned at the pointed response.

Abbey tried to smile but it faltered and she hesitantly bit her lip.

Erin raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"About the Commissioner…" Abbey swallowed.

Erin tilted her head with a grin, "I'm familiar with him…"

Abbey smiled briefly before her concern rose again, "Maternity leave only dictates that I return at the same level of employment, not necessarily to the same job."

"Wait…" Erin held up a hand, "You are _not_ possibly about to ask me if he would reassign you just because you have a kid."

Abbey lifted a shoulder in half shrug, "Even if I come back to work right away I'll still take a minimum maternity leave. He can't be without a primary for 2 months which means he needs to bring in a replacement anyway."

"Baker…" Erin leaned forward.

Abbey gestured to the picture of Miles Thomas still on the table, "I'm going to be working around the clock on this; something I may not be able to do when I have a baby." She shook her head, "He needs someone he can count on - whatever the commitment."

"Are you saying you think you should transfer yourself?" Erin asked, "Because if that's the case I can pretty well guess his response to _that._ "

Abbey sighed, "No." She shook her head, "I still count it as one of the most fortunate days in my life when I was offered this job. I love what I do." She looked up, "But part of my role is to make sure the Commissioner has everything he needs to do his job without having to worry about minutia." She shook her head, "And having the right person at that desk is something the Commissioner _needs_ in order to do his job."

Erin sat back and looked Abbey over, pursing her lips.

"You want to know what he always says whenever my brothers or I get stuck on a tough choice?" She asked with a flicker of a smile.

Abbey looked back steadily.

Erin leaned forward, " _Family comes first."_ She waited for Abbey to absorb the sentiment. "Look, you and I don't know each other extremely well but I know what you've done for my father."

Her smile softened, "You were there for him when Mom was sick and then, after she died, when he seemed so lost…" She looked away for a beat, emotion brimming in her eyes, "You were there for him in a way that the rest of us couldn't be; helping him stay focused on his purpose at work and going through the hell of transitioning to the PC position." She shook her head, "You're the one who came to the house when everything happened with Joe. He didn't even have to think about worrying about going back to the office that week because he knew you would have it covered." Erin looked over Abbey carefully, "Grandpa says that your actions probably saved Dad's life after he was shot…" Abbey looked down, but not fast enough to conceal her flinch. Erin gave a satisfied nod, "Then of course there is everything from last spring with Jamie. You are one of the very few non-Reagans he brought into the fold on that whole operation."

Erin took a deep breath and pinned Abbey with an intense look, "He may not say it, but you're family. He would never be able or willing to just replace you. If transferring is something you want to do I have no doubt that he'd support you but if you want to stay…" She smiled, "He will never resent you for taking time with your family in place of working like a robot."

Abbey looked down, blinking away the moisture threatening to spill from her eyes.

"The hormones are a real thing too." Erin smiled, handing her a tissue.

Abbey dabbed her eyes, "They're annoying."

Erin chuckled, "They certainly are."

Abbey huffed a small laugh as well. "Thank you, Erin." She looked up to her, "I'm sorry; I know this isn't what you were expecting when you suggested lunch."

"Maybe not; but this was better than spending the whole time talking about a rapist." She smiled firmly. She waited a beat, considering something, "And the whole 'family' thing is transitive, you know."

Abbey tilted her head, confused.

Erin smiled, "Like I said, we haven't exactly been close, but you're important to my father. If you need anything, even if it's just an understanding ear, please don't hesitate to call me."

Abbey smiled back, tears again pushing forward. She shook them away, "Thank you. It really does mean a lot."

She exhaled, centering herself. She tapped her notepad, "Let me start to repay you by helping you find some good news."

* * *

Abbey hung her head as soon as she heard the tone in Erin's voice.

"Ellen Sloan said no?" She asked.

"I'm sorry." Erin confirmed. "I already called Dad."

Abbey flinched and glanced at the closed office door. She exhaled. "Okay. Well we can keep at it. We barely went through Armel's time before Green Haven but I have all his residences and jobs."

Erin's sigh filtered through the line, "I don't think so. Like we discussed, even if you can come up with something from back then we will run into the same statute of limitations problems that are preventing us from holding him accountable in Ms. Fox's case."

Abbey frowned, pulling up her notepad and flicking through, "What about the other one I found? Rebecca Zangrilli, the woman from his building who committed suicide after claiming she was raped by a neighbor in 2005? What if we can demonstrate that she killed herself because of him? Is there something we could charge him with?"

"Detective..." Erin's voice was resigned, "You and I both know how unlikely that is. Even if there was a way I could twist it into manslaughter, she never consented to a rape kit and she made no mention of specifics regarding her attacker in her suicide note. I don't think the possibility is strong enough to make it work putting her family through the type of investigation it would require."

"I know..." Abbey relented warily.

"I'm sorry." Erin repeated, "Rossellini is making me pull the investigators off. I don't see anything else there is to do."

Abbey nodded, "You're probably right."

"And don't worry about the Commissioner." Erin chided.

"Right, because you're not." Abbey tossed back.

Erin sighed, "It's not good right now, no. But he and Grandpa are having a boys weekend with Danny's kids this weekend, that will cheer him up. He just needs to get through the next 4 days."

"If you say so." Abbey relented.

"Well," Erin's tone turned up, "If you really wanted to distract him from this and make him feel better I know something you could tell him...everyone likes to share in good news."

Abbey rolled her eyes, "It's hardly the time for that."

"I'm just saying." Erin teased. "You're going to have to tell him eventually."

"I like eventually." Abbey grimaced.

"You know I'm just teasing, right?" Erin checked.

"Yes." Abbey assured, "No worries. And if I thought it would actually help and I had a clue of what to say, I would."

"Alright. Well, I know this isn't what we wanted but I appreciate the help." Erin wrapped up.

"I'm still not giving up." Abbey assured.

"I didn't anticipate anything less." Erin returned before hanging up the phone.

Abbey sighed and looked down at the mess of files and notes across her desk, She snapped her head up as phone intercom blinked and the Commissioner's voice "Baker" came through, prompting her into the office.

Walking in she was first met with Garrett's concerned gaze before turning to face the PC. He leaned heavily on his elbows braced on his desk, a tight frown on his face.

"You speak with ADA Reagan?" He asked.

Abbey nodded, "I just got off the phone with her."

He gave a short nod and straightened, running a hand across his chin as he readjusted himself back in his chair. "I appreciate your efforts but I think it's about time we put a pin in this." He attempted to project a casual air, obscuring his disappointment, but he was unable to meet her eyes, "Why don't you archive whatever you've collected on Armel."

Abbey shifted, "If it's all the same to you, Sir, I'd like to hold on to the file."

His eyes locked with hers, "We have a lot of other things that need to be attended too, there isn't the time to spend on this."

"I know." She nodded, "But, I just..." She wrestled with her words, "I'd like to keep it. Just because I can't do something right now doesn't mean there is nothing I can do."

He looked steadily back at her for a long beat, "Edward Hale."

"Sir?" She blinked.

He tilted his head, "' _I cannot do everything but I can do something...'_ "

She shook her head, "I'm sorry, I don't know that quote."

The corners of his lips twitched. "Nevermind." He nodded, "But okay, you can hold on to the file."

She nodded, satisfied, "Thank you sir."

He looked at her for a long moment before turning his attention to Garrett, "Let's hold a press conference on this tomorrow."

"Come on Frank..." Garrett stepped closer, "You don't really want to do that."

Frank's lips pursed, "I don't. But I should." He looked to his desk, "It's not just about Justin Armel now. It's also about Miles Thomas." He looked up, "He's being released in 2 days and deserves to have the record set straight publicly."

Abbey watched Garrett process and accept the explanation before nodding reluctantly. "I'll set it up."

* * *

The next morning Abbey stood behind the Commissioner's shoulder and listened to him publicly lay out his remorse. She repressed the instinct to look over in surprise when he repeated the unfamiliar quote she had unknowingly prompted in his office, " _I cannot do everything but I can do something and I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I can do._ "

She held her note pad tighter to herself and felt a sudden certainty come over her, there was no longer a question; it would get harder, and there were new challenges ahead, but there was no way she would allow herself to choose to step away from this office as long as there was still something she could do.


	32. Disclosure

_A/N - Starts in Episode 2.6 and ends in Episode 2.7 but the reference is super small._

* * *

 ** _"Reagan Must Go!"_**

 _"Let 'Em Hear You!"_

 ** _"Reagan Must Go!"_**

 _"Speak Up!"_

 ** _"Reagan Must Go!"_**

 ** _"Reagan Must Go!"_**

The chant increased in volume as Abbey turned the corner and her eyes widened at the size of the crowd outside of 1 PP. She pulled her jacket tight around herself and tried to avoid the news cameras as she ducked into the building and headed to the elevator.

"Baker." She looked over to see the Commissioner approaching from down the hall.

"Sir." She greeted.

He glanced at the paper bag in her hand, "Captain's Chicken?" He smirked, "Better not let Jimmy see that."

She pushed the call button for the elevator. "There's a spicy chicken sandwich in there for Detective Nucifero." She smiled smugly.

"Ahh. I should have known." He conceded.

The elevator doors opened and he gestured for her to step in ahead before he followed and pushed 14.

They stood side by side in the elevator and she glanced over to him, "Had to pass your fan club outside as I was coming back."

He inclined his head with a wry smirk, "Also known as why I had lunch in the kitchen."

She frowned, "I could have picked something up for you."

"Wasn't really that hungry anyway." He sighed.

Abbey peered back at him. "Well," She tried light heartedly, "They're making a lot of noise into the void. Doesn't Garrett always say you're the highest polling public figure in the city?"

Frank pursed his lips and kept his gaze looking ahead, "Winds of change." He murmured.

She blinked back at him.

Catching her confusion he shrugged, "This city…This _department_ ," He amended, "Has been on the brink of combustion with certain populations since before my father was walking a beat." He shoved his hands into his pockets, "With the speed of information today and the narration in the media…" He grimaced, "It won't take much for someone like Potter to upend what's been taken for granted."

Abbey listened carefully, a pit forming in her stomach, diminishing her own hunger. She tilted her head, "Sir, not to jump on the band wagon…"

He looked at her, eyebrows raised, inviting her comment.

"Well," She furrowed her brow, "If that's how you feel, isn't there more to be gained by talking with Potter than not?"

The Commissioner's face darkened and his shoulders squared. "Two of his people assaulted two officers." He shook his head, "There is nothing to talk about with that unresolved."

She swallowed; knowing his anger wasn't directed at her didn't make it any less intimidating. She took a breath and forced herself not to look away.

"How is Officer Reagan?" She asked gently.

The anger didn't dissipate but his stature softened slightly. "He'll be fine. It's a nasty looking cut but no stitches, no concussion."

He looked away, focusing on his shoes. "He was lucky."

The elevator came to a stop with a ding and the doors opened. She hesitated, waiting for him to take the first step.

He heaved a deep breath and exhaled before raising his head and exiting the lift.

"There you are!" Garrett greeted as soon as they turned the corner. "What are we going to do Frank?"

Frank drew up short and tilted his head, "About what?"

Garrett shook his head, "Don't even try that. You know exactly what."

Abbey sidestepped the DCPI and placed Jim's sandwich on his desk with a bounce of her eyebrows. He responded with a subtle shake of his head and she smirked.

Garrett gestured in the direction of the protest, "Metro 10 is going live at the 1pm news break and will lead with Potter's demand that Poole remove you."

"Well that doesn't sound so bad." Frank shrugged.

Garrett's eyes widened, "Metro 10 is the most watched news in the city!"

"I meant the being removed from office bit." Frank deadpanned. "Could be nice."

He bulldozed around Garrett and into his office leaving the DCPI shaking his head and muttering before following him determinedly into the office.

Jim waited until it was quiet again to gesture to Abbey with his sandwich, "Thanks."

She smiled back, "Don't worry about it. I had a craving for their cole slaw anyway."

He made a gesture as he finished chewing. "This evening we're going uptown to pay a visit to Sergeant Renzulli. Boss thought you might want in on the detail."

Abbey started to automatically agree but she hesitated, putting a forkful of coleslaw in her mouth to buy time.

Renzulli was in the hospital on 135th street, in Harlem, just a few blocks from Reverend Potter's church and where there was a lot of unrest directed to the NYPD and the Commissioner personally. She let her hand drop to her lap and lay against her stomach.

"I can't." She answered quickly.

Jim nodded and returned his attention to his sandwich.

"I have to leave right on time today, for a thing…" She found herself trying to explain unnecessarily, "It's, um, been planned for a while and I wouldn't be able to change it."

Jim looked back at with a tilt of his head, "No problem. It wasn't an order."

She swallowed a sigh and braced her arms across her desk, suddenly feeling shaky. She glanced to the closed office door and frowned. It wasn't an order this time, but soon enough it might be; she wouldn't be able to put off the inevitable conversation for much longer.

* * *

Two weeks later she found herself on the doorstep of the large brick house. She clenched and unclenched her fingers, took a steadying breath and pressed the doorbell.

There was no corresponding sound and she frowned, uncertain if she should press it again.

As she was hesitating a loud bang from inside the house caused her to jump, followed a moment later by a clear shout that sounded like it came from the Commissioner.

Wide eyed she forgot all about the doorbell and instead tried the knob; it didn't turn, the door was locked.

She heard another crashing sound and the Commissioner shout again.

On instinct she jogged back to her car and retrieved her gun from the glove compartment. Remembering that the Reagans rarely locked the porch door by the kitchen, she jogged around the side of the house, taking care to avoid the windows.

Steeling herself for whatever she might be walking in to she drew a deep breath and slowly turned the knob, careful to not make a sound.

Keeping her gun by her hip she entered the small porch, surveying what she could of the kitchen through the sink window.

The room appeared empty but she heard the sounds of a struggle coming from the sunroom. She edged inside.

She held her breath and peered around the edge of the doorframe and into the sunroom. Her view was obstructed but she could clearly make out a pair of legs lying on the ground. Praying it wasn't the Commissioner but rather his assailant she readied her gun and stepped further in.

Taking in the scene, she immediately dropped her hands behind her back and switched on the safety with her thumb and slid the gun into the back of her waistband.

The glass coffee table had been shoved haphazardly against the couch and a backpack was upended next to it with it's contents strewn across the room.

One of the chairs was turned around and young boy was using the chair back as a shield, standing on the seat and brandishing a paper towel tube and shouting, "Jaaaack! You're out!"

"I am not! You're doing it wrong! Right Grandpa?" Jack defended himself from behind his grandfather who was sitting on the ground with legs outstretched and a puzzled look on his face.

"I didn't know there were rules to this game." Frank countered.

"But Grandpa…" Jack complained.

"Eh…that's a rule I know, no whining! You know what happens!" Frank held up a finger and Jack's eyes went wide.

"No!" He shouted, despite a wild grin on his face, but it was too late; Frank grabbed his grandson's wrist and quickly but gently flipped the boy over his shoulder and into his lap. The movement would have been pretty smooth except Jack kicked out mid air and a hardcover textbook that had been on the coffee table went crashing to the ground.

Jack was laughing hysterically at being flipped until he made eye contact with Abbey from his upside down position across his Grandfather's legs. He immediately fell silent and poked his grandfather's arm, gesturing to the doorway.

Frank followed Jack's gaze and noticed Abbey for the first time. His brow furrowed and his mouth hung open for a beat and Abbey felt an embarrassed blush creep up her neck.

She smiled uncomfortably and gave an awkward wave to the boys, "Hi…I'm…um, sorry, Sir."

He blinked, still confused until he shook his head and the playful grandfather was suddenly replaced by the concerned Commissioner.

"Baker?" He asked in such a tone that he could have been sitting behind his imposing desk as opposed on a floor surrounded by the detritus of wrestling with two young boys.

She held up her hands, "I'm sorry sir… just… a misunderstanding. I didn't mean to interrupt. I'll just head back…"

She began to back track to the kitchen.

"Hold on." He ordered and despite the absurdity of the situation she stilled in place.

She waited as he reoriented Jack and then used the boy's shoulder and the coffee table to help leverage himself off the ground. He glanced around, seemingly noticing the chaos of the room for the first time. "How about you two neaten this up while I talk to Detective Baker; Pops and your mom will be back soon and she's not going to like seeing your school books all over the place."

"Yes Grandpa." "Okay Grandpa." The boys echoed, sullen at the interruption of their game.

Abbey couldn't resist the grin on her face as she watched the brothers for a beat before following the Commissioner back to the kitchen.

She reached the cooking island and turned around to face him only to find his eyes narrowed and rising back to her face from her waist.

"Are you _armed_?" He asked, clearly bewildered.

She winced, feeling the cool metal of her glock against her back, "Yes, Sir."

She could appreciate the confusion flickering across his face. She rarely, if ever, carried her gun so the fact she had it on her had to be setting off alarms that were direct contrast with the rest of her behavior.

She held up a placating hand, "That was the misunderstanding."

He pursed his lips together, "I think you should start from the beginning."

She released a breath, still trying to get her heart beat under control from the scare her imagination had given her.

"I had stopped by because there was something I wanted to tell you but I think your doorbell is broken." She started.

"It has been." He agreed, "If I had _known_ the next step would be for people to come in the back door with a gun I would have been more proactive about fixing it."

She smiled, "I wouldn't have normally, but…" She sighed, feeling the embarrassment again, "When I was standing on the front steps I heard what sounded like a struggle."

Understanding entered the Commissioner's eyes and a grin slowly spread across his face, "So you came to the rescue?"

She closed her eyes, certain her neck and cheeks must be a very bright shade of pink. "I…" She stuttered, "Remembered you leave the back door unlocked when you're home and thought I should at least…"

His grin split into a full smile, "It's okay Baker, I appreciate it. Job well done." He glanced through the doorway to see the two boys lackadaisically cleaning the mess they had made, "You saved me from a couple of real goons."

"God…" she groaned and covered her eyes with a hand.

He took pity on her, "Baker, it's okay."

She looked up again, chagrined and he smiled gently back, "I actually am a bit impressed; you didn't know what you were walking into but you came in ready for it." He nodded, "Good work."

She sighed and shook her head, "Thank you sir, but seriously, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your time with your grandsons."

"Don't worry about it." He smiled, "Honestly you probably did save me; sometimes we get a little carried away."

Her imagination suddenly kicked in again and instead of the Commissioner wrestling with his grandsons she was seeing Brian on the floor, playing with their future child and she felt her heart swell even as she resisted the urge to wrap her hands affectionately around her midsection.

The Commissioner was watching her, confusion creeping back into his expression. "Why don't you tell me what you stopped by for to begin with?" He prompted as he moved to the fridge and pulled out a beer. "Do you want one?" He offered.

"Um, no. Thank you." She declined despite part of her brain desperately wanting anything alcoholic to escape from her embarrassment.

He didn't seem to notice her inner torment and twisted the top of his drink, tossing the cap in the trash and taking a sip before leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen island.

"So…" He prompted.

"So." She repeated, taking a deep breath, her nerves going off again for a completely different reason. "I am sorry for stopping by but I was a few blocks away anyway and I've been thinking about this and that you should know but there's been no good time and I'm still trying to keep it quiet and there are always interruptions and we try to maintain certain decorum at the office so I am not sure if I could have ever gotten through telling you there..."

"You're not exactly getting through telling me now." He pointed out her rambling with a grin and a gesture of his beer bottle.

She sighed, "Right, sorry." She bit her lip and looked up to him, "Sir, I'm pregnant."

His face immediately softened, grin growing wider. Involuntarily his eyes glanced to her abdomen before he seemed to catch himself and he pulled them back up to lock with hers.

"Abigail…" He paused, just smiling, "Congratulations."

His voice was warm and sincere and she suddenly found herself wondering why she had been nervous at all.

That is until his smile faltered and his brow creased, "Wait. Why all the nerves and the needing to come out here to tell me? Are you quitting?"

She blinked, gut checked, "No sir!" she replied automatically.

"Okay…" He relaxed, relieved, "Then…?"

"Well...I hate to put more on your plate but it does mean certain discussions should probably be had." She fidgeted with her fingers, "First of all I don't know what it means when someone in my position needs to take maternity leave. You can't be without a primary for a month or two." She looked down, "Maybe you want to look into hiring on someone new while I can train them and then transfer me out."

He frowned, putting his beer on the counter, "You mean permanently?"

She shrugged a shoulder, "I don't know." She replied quietly, "Whatever you think is the right course."

He took a deep breath and looked her over thoughtfully, "I don't think it's really about me right now." He tilted his head, "What are you looking for?"

She looked up, wide-eyed.

"I know your position demands some long hours." He explained, "Maybe something you don't want to do once you have a child?"

She started to shake her head, then paused, "That's not it sir. Brian and I have talked about it. I'm pretty sure if given the choice I'd like to come back to work after the baby is born."

"Pretty sure." Frank repeated. "But you won't _really_ be sure until the baby is born." He pointed out sagely.

"So I've been told." She acquiesced.

He nodded, "It's not easy." His eyes lost focus as he seemed to recall a memory, "That little baby…they can challenge a lot of things you thought you knew for sure."

She smiled, "Well, for now, I think I know for sure that I want to keep working as long as you'll let me."

"Okay." He shrugged, "So, you'll go on maternity leave. I think policy is actually up to three months and we'll have to find a way to keep things organized while you're gone, but I certainly have no intention of transferring you." He paused, tilting his head, "Until you ask for it yourself. Understood?"

She nodded, holding back the pressure she felt pushing on her eyes, "Yes. Thank you sir."

He waited a beat, "Okay, so what else?"

She sighed, unsure of exactly how to put it, "There have been times when I've been grateful to 'get out from behind the desk'…"

"And that is longer the case." He quickly surmised with a gentle look.

She nodded, "Not that I don't enjoy having opportunity to get out; but…" This time she didn't hold back from protectively wrapping her hands across her midsection.

He smiled, "Absolutely understood." He nodded, "And no more protective detail for you either. Even just the occasional ride along."

She started to object but stopped realizing the wisdom.

He didn't notice her hesitation as his brow furrowed in realization, "Wait…"

He looked at her and for the first time she could remember his eyes flashed anger directed at her. "You just came in here, uncertain enough about the situation that you brought your weapon; what were you thinking?!"

She blinked, "I…don't know." She shrugged, "Just moving on instinct I guess."

He shook his head, "You can't do that!" He let out an exasperated huff, "If you come across a situation, you call it in and high tail yourself to somewhere safe. Do you understand me?"

Her hands tightened as she realized the potential implications of what she had just done. She nodded, "Yes, sir."

"Good." He nodded once, "Consider it a standing direct order until that baby is born."

She smiled, "Yes, sir."

He shook his head, exasperated. Picking his beer back up he gestured to her, "I've got enough on my mind with this whole brood; Don't make me have to worry about you too."

"No sir." She affirmed, "Playing it safe, I promise."

He took a long sip from his drink, eyes on her, "So, when are you due?"

"May." She replied, "So there is plenty of time to get things figured out."

"In all manner of speaking." He smirked. "Lots of changes."

She nodded uncomfortably.

"Anyone else at work know?" He asked.

She shook her head, "I'd like to try and make it through the holidays without being too public about it." She shifted, "Honestly if it wasn't for the issue with riding the detail I probably wouldn't have told you yet."

He nodded, "Understood. I remember walking that line." He smirked "Wasn't always easy to keep it to yourself."

"That's what Erin said." Abbey smiled even as Frank's smiled dropped.

"Erin? _My_ Erin?" His eyes narrowed.

"Yes…" Abbey confirmed.

"So you told _her._ " He crossed his arms in mock agitation.

Abbey's eyes went wide, "It just came up."

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

"We spent a lot of time working together last month." She tried to explain.

"You told her a month ago?" He inferred, the corner of his lips twitching.

She sighed, resigned "Yes."

He shook his head, "Well then…" He narrowed his eyes, "Don't tell her you told me." He grinned.

"Sir?" She questioned.

He shook his head, "You'll learn soon enough that as a parent you can have some fun with your children when you know more than they think you do."

Abbey grinned, "Okay sir. But be nice, she was very kind and helpful."

"Of course she was." He relented.

She smiled and stepped back, "I've probably taken too much of your time, I just didn't like the feeling that I was keeping something from you and didn't know how to broach the subject at the office. I'll let you get back to your family."

Frank put his drink back down and pushed away from the counter, "Well you don't need to feel badly, you're allowed to have a personal life." He smiled, "Though I am glad you came by."

She nodded, "Yes sir, I'll see you in the morning."

He sighed, "Yes, actually, do me a favor? The mayor said he had some proposals that his office hasn't sent over yet. On your way in could you swing by and pick them up?"

"Of course." She nodded, mentally filing it away. "Outsourcing firms?" She questioned.

He grimaced, "I'm not considering it." He sighed, "But…there could be a complication and I want to see what one of the companies put together before I move on this other issue."

She frowned, "Something I could help with sir?"

He shook his head, "Just my old man being a pain in my ass _again._ " He rolled his eyes, "Because making budget cuts just wasn't hard enough."

"I'm sorry." She winced. "I'll grab those proposals for you first thing." She smiled and began to step out.

"Baker…" He stopped her and she turned to face him.

He stepped closer to her with a soft smile and gave her a short, gentle hug. He pulled back his hands giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze, "Congratulations."


	33. Beleaguered

_A/N - This takes place in the middle of episode 2.9 -_  
 _I am excited; had been just going through Netflix but a friend bought me some DVDs with deleted scenes and interviews with show writers - SO MUCH MORE MATERIAL - I'm going to take a few days off writing to binge watch some special features!_

* * *

Abbey shivered as she waited at the pushcart. "Extra salt and mustard please."

The vendor nodded without looking up and she gratefully accepted the warm pretzel with both hands, frowning at the meager dribble of mustard. She looked around the cart for an extra bottle of the condiment when the short tempered voice of the next woman in line caught her attention.

"Coffee. Black." Erin ordered, not looking up from her purse, slapping her money onto the counter and accepting her drink without pleasantries.

"Erin?" Abbey caught the ADA's attention, "You okay?"

Erin looked up, caught off guard, "Baker…I didn't see you there."

Abbey shook her head, "I didn't see you either until I heard your voice." She tilted her head and repeated her question, "You okay?"

"I'm fine." Erin huffed as she brought her coffee to her nose, "It's just that sometimes I feel like strangling your boss."

Abbey bounced her eyebrows in sympathetic amusement, "If you decide to, might I suggest somewhere with less cops than 1PP."

Erin rolled her eyes and Abbey's smile faltered.

"Look, I'm not going to pretend to know what's going on but I can tell you it's been a rough week…"

"He doesn't need you making excuses for him." Erin cut her off sharply and Abbey blinked.

Erin sighed, "I'm sorry," She looked down, "I shouldn't take it out on you."

She smiled apologetically and Abbey waived away her concern.

Erin tilted her head and the two women walked together across the plaza. "And I _do_ know it's been rough. He tries to hide it but we can all tell how much Grandpa's heart attack scared him." She frowned, "Honestly, it scared everyone. But my Dad turns worrying in to a vocation; if one of us gives him cause for concern then he suddenly turns up the fuss on everyone."

"Considering the size of your family that sounds like a full time job." Abbey quipped.

Erin shot her a glare, "Well, if he doesn't cut it out _he's_ going to be the next one with a heart attack." She shook her head, "He needs to just let things go and accept that his children are adults who are capable of making our own decisions without having him sic his people after every little problem."

Abbey narrowed her eyes, thinking and then sighed, "Sam Croft…"

Erin nodded, "Yeah, Sam." She shook her head.

"I'm sorry." Abbey winced, "This is partly my fault."

Erin looked back, waiting.

Abbey put one hand in her jacket pocket, "I told the Commissioner that for the upcoming months I wanted to back off from some of the side investigations I've been doing."

At Erin's questioning look she explained, "We're still dealing with somethings we unearthed over at IA during the whole thing with your brother, among other investigations here and there that would pull me from the desk or that I would work on at odd hours." She shrugged, "With Croft coming back stateside and being someone the Commissioner already knew and trusted it seemed to be a good idea to pull him in."

She winced, "But apparently not so good for you;although he's asked me for a number of things, I doubt the Commissioner would ever ask _me_ to look in to your business."

"Don't worry about it. It doesn't matter why Sam's here." Erin shrugged, "I actually like him, I've known him since Danny was a rookie. He's not the problem; my father forgetting I'm not 16 is the problem." She paused to sip her coffee, "I get it, Grandpa being sick made Dad feel helpless so he's compensating. I almost expected it." She shook her head, "But using his staff to look into my dating life is an abuse and he's wrong and he ought to know better."

Abbey looked down.

Erin sighed and glanced up to the red brick building over Abbey's shoulder, "I shouldn't vent to you like this. I know it puts you in the middle."

"It only puts me in the middle if you ask me to do something about it." Abbey pointed out. "It's no problem to commiserate. I think we all have times when our fathers are over protective."

"You know the funny thing?" Erin sighed, "I asked Sam to look into the same exact thing." She exhaled, "I'm just annoyed that Dad got there first."

Abbey raised her eyebrows, "This is about a guy you're seeing?"

" _Seeing_ is maybe too strong of a word for it." Erin gave Abbey a reluctant side eye, splitting into a grin. "I know, it's ridiculous."

Abbey smiled, " _Dating,_ in general, is ridiculous."

Erin smiled warmly, "I won't disagree with you!" She sighed and looked back toward Centre St with a frown. "Regardless, thanks for lending an ear. I'm glad I ran into you before I went back to the office and unloaded at the wrong person."

"Anytime." Abbey grinned in return before turning back toward the employee entrance of 1 PP.

Getting off the elevator she almost ran into Garrett. "Baker." He greeted, "The boss was just looking for you."

She groaned, "Thanks."

Shrugging off her coat she left it across her desk as she grabbed her notebook and opened the door to the PC's office.

"Sir?"

He looked up from the binder he was looking over, "Ah, yeah…" He frowned, "I'm sorry. I was talking to Garrett and know I wanted to ask you for _something_ …" His features pinched in concentration, "But what exactly seems to have slipped my mind..."

She frowned at the unusual lapse in recollection, thinking over what she had on her desk. "The OT rec for New Years?" She guessed.

His face brightened, "That was it!"

She smiled and ducked back to her desk, flipping through her folders, retrieving the proper file and returning it to him.

He shook his head as he reached up to accept it, "I'm sitting here going over the Times Square parameters, of course I was looking for the OT."

"Seeing as you usually remember everything, I think you're allowed one lapse." She smiled. "Though I'm sorry I wasn't here when you were first looking for me." She hesitated, "I ran in to Erin on my way back in."

The Commissioner put down his pen and sat back in his chair with a dubious stare.

After a beat his face softened into an uncertain frown, "She still mad at me?"

"She won't be for long." Abbey assured.

He released a soft disbelieving snort, pulling off his glasses and dropping them on the paperwork. He ran a hand down the side of his face, rubbing the edge of his mustache.

He smiled wanly back at her, "Enjoy the time you have now because once that kid is born you're never going to stop worrying about it." He looked away to the window, "I swear, if I could I would." He released a resigned sigh and looked back, "According to my old man it doesn't ever end."

Abbey bit her lip, "How is your father doing?"

"Good, thanks." He nodded, propping his elbow on the arm of his chair and resting his chin against his hand, "He's back home and I give us until Christmas eve before he starts ignoring the doctor's orders again." He sighed, "Unfortunately I give it about twice as long before I can refer to him as a pain in the ass without feeling guilty about it." He frowned, "Even if it is just in my own head."

He looked up, bemusement flickering in his tired eyes, "It should make for an interesting Christmas."

She smiled back sympathetically.

His fingers came up and again rubbed at the corner of his eye.

"Sir…"

He blinked and refocused his attention to her.

"The Japanese ambassadors took much less time than I had scheduled."

He smirked, "Efficiency meets efficiency."

She smiled, "Yes, well, as a result we're pretty light on the schedule, if you wanted to go home early."

He straightened in his chair and narrowed his eyes, "Are you kicking me out?"

"No sir." She tilted her head with a grin, "I'm just pointing out that it's nearly 5 and you have no more appointments for the day. I thought you might appreciate the time."

He pegged her with a knowing stare before relenting with a shrug of his eyebrows. "I suppose it wouldn't be the worst idea in the world."

She smiled, her reply interrupted by the ring of her blackberry. She frowned at the internal 1PP number on the screen and picked it up as the Commissioner began placing his paperwork into his briefcase, "Baker."

 _"Detective. It's Kramer."_

"Yes?" She replied evenly, uncertain why the OCCB detective would be calling.

 _"I've got Jamie Reagan down here."_

"So?" She closed her eyes, praying that he wasn't about to say what she knew he was about to say.

 _"So, if he's around, I think his father should come down."_

She sighed, "Detective Kramer, the Commissioner does not like to interfere in the business of his officers, regardless of their last name."

She looked pointedly at the PC who had predictably perked up and was now paying close attention to her end of the conversation.

 _"I know. And this particular officer doesn't seem interested in bothering the PC either, but seeing as he's bleeding all over my briefing room I think someone should give him a ride to the hospital and I thought the Commish, at the very least, might want to know."_

Abbey's fought to keep her eyes from flying wide in concern.

"You're probably right, but I can't bring this to him until you give me more details."

The Commissioner had now come around the desk and stood a few feet in front of her, briefcase forgotten.

 _"Jamie's more or less in one piece but he got pretty well tuned up by a couple of mooks. He's well enough to have brought himself in and says his cover is intact but he's not a pretty sight. He really needs to have some xrays and probably a prescription for some pain pills."_

Abbey nodded, "Keep him there. The PC will be right down."

She hung up the phone and looked to the Commissioner. He was visibly working to keep his face neutral.

"What is it?"

"Officer Reagan is in OCCB's briefing room right now; Detective Kramer says that he was beaten up."

Frank's lips pursed and he audibly exhaled. "How bad?"

Abbey frowned with a reluctant tilt of her head, "He drove himself here and didn't want you to be called but Kramer says he needs to be taken to the hospital for xrays."

The exhaustion disappeared as the Commissioner's eyes flashed. Squaring his shoulders he brushed past her and out the door without a word. She watched him go for a beat before realizing he had left his coat. Grabbing it and dropping her notepad on her desk she made it to the end of the hall as he entered the elevator, angrily shoving the button for the 3rd floor.

"This is really enough." He muttered as the lights flicked down the building. "I should _never_ have signed off. Barely on the job for a year..."

The rest of his thoughts he finished internally as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets, his face thunderous.

"I'm sure he's okay." Abbey offered, "If he drove himself in it can't be too bad."

Frank's eyes didn't move from where they were set straight ahead, "His mother would kill me if she were still around." He sighed heavily, and paused, "The truth is she would have killed me the day he joined the Academy…now, undercover, the mob…she'd eviscerate me." He shook his head and the door opened, "She'd be perfectly right too." He snarled, stepping off.

He paced down the hall with such intensity that Abbey struggled to keep up until he came to a sudden stop at the edge of the hall windows looking into the OCCB briefing office.

Catching up with him she stifled the instinct to gasp at her first sight of Jamie Reagan. Judging from his face, x-rays were the least of what he needed.

He was leaning back in one of the chairs barely holding himself up. Only one blood shot eye remained open, the other swollen shut. There was drying blood around his nostrils and caked in the curves of his ears. Streaks where he had wiped more away crossed his cheek and neck with stains on his coat and shirt providing evidence of how much there had been.

Frank watched through the window, frozen. He exhaled through his nose, his breath stuttering as his jaw clenched enough to tense the muscles down his neck.

"I want all the files on this whole damn operation." He ground out.

"Yes, sir." She promised.

"Enough." He muttered, taking one more breath before opening the door.

"Jamie?"

The young officer winced as he immediately tried to straighten in the chair, "Dad…" He turned his head to better see with his one eye, "It looks worse than it is. They didn't need to call you."

Frank rolled his eyes and stepped closer, tilting his head, evaluating his son. "Because you were _so far away_ , it just wouldn't make sense for me to take the whole 90 seconds to get down here."

"Whatever." Jamie readjusted in his seat, arm against his ribs, "I'll be okay."

"Right." Frank nodded, "Future tense. Not present." He lowered himself into another chair at the table and edged closer, pulling a handkerchief out of his back pocket and began gently wiping the blood from Jamie's closed eye.

He sighed and tried to smile, "Did ya land a couple before they got you down?"

Jamie's lips tipped into a ghost of a grin, "A couple."

"Atta boy." Frank whispered as his hand palmed his son's cheek.

He sat there for a quiet moment, looking Jamie over. He blinked and dropped his hand to his knee, exhaling, "Come on. I was just heading out anyway. I'll bring you to Saint Vic's. While they patch you up I'll call Pop and ask him to make up some of your grandma's beef stew; you can stay over tonight."

"Dad you don't need to…" Jamie shook his head.

"Stop it." Frank interrupted. "It's an order; x-rays, ice packs, tylenol, stew and sleep." He stood back and sighed, "From the looks of it you probably have a mild concussion too, the doctors wouldn't let you go home alone anyway."

Jamie relented with a small nod and began to leverage himself out of the chair, cringing as he moved.

Seeing him struggle, Frank stepped forward, placing an arm under his shoulder and wrapping it around his back, "Here we go. I got you."

"You're going to get blood on your suit..." Jamie resisted.

Frank ignored him continuing to help him up, "That's what dry cleaners are for. Come on, just like this, use my arm."

Jamie swallowed, his jaw trembling as he stood, leaning heavily against his father.

"Ahh." He winced reaching for his ribs again.

"I know, I know." Frank soothed and began to guide Jamie to the hall.

He looked to Abbey, "Tell the detail to bring the car right to the elevator lobby in the garage."

She nodded and called Nucifero, relaying the message.

She must have missed something during the call because as she hung up Jamie finished explaining something to his father who was fighting back an honest grin and smothering a chuckle.

"Well. Never would have anticipated _that_ would actually come in useful." Frank pressed the elevator call button.

Jamie winced, "Me neither." He tried to grin, "It was instinct."

Frank's small smile faltered as Jamie readjusted himself and released a hiss of pain.

"Alright." Frank moved so Jamie could put most of his weight into his father's arms, as they boarded the elevator. "I've got you son. You're okay."

Jamie sighed and closed his one good eye, leaning back against Frank's shoulder, "Thanks Dad."

The last thing Abbey saw was Frank gently resting his cheek on the crown of his son's head as the doors slid closed.


	34. Tribulation

_A/N - Episode 2.12 - "The Job", aka, the episode that inspired this story! As such there is some reference to chapter 3 of this story. This chapter takes place before, during and a *little* slice of after the episode._

 _Thanks for hanging on with me!_

* * *

"And make sure the Chief of Department's office gets a copy of the report from Transit…"

Abbey added the order to her growing list of notes.

She looked up as the Commissioner's voice trailed off. He had taken off his glasses and was rubbing at his brow, elbow braced on the desk.

"Uhh…and push back my meeting with the PSAs, I suspect the Bronx DA meeting is going to go a little longer than anticipated since the arrests last night…" He exhaled and straightened, blinking, "There was one more thing…"

She sat back in her chair, pen poised and waiting.

He frowned, opened his mouth and closed it again, tilting his head.

Abbey smothered her own frown. Over the years she had learned many of the Commissioner's idiosyncrasies, one being that his infamous memory only failed him when he was particularly upset or tired.

There had been moments of absentmindedness the few weeks after Henry's heart attack but after Christmas there appeared to have been a reset and everything seemed fine again...until last week.

Again the Commissioner was arriving early and staying unnecessarily late. He was more short tempered with Garrett than normal and was increasingly forgetful of simple things.

Abbey didn't think any of the usual suspects were at fault; Henry was home, healthy and happy, Erin was no longer seeing her mystery man, OCCB hadn't sent Jamie on any operations and no news was good news when it came to Danny and his proclivity for finding trouble.

The office had it's own share of issues but nothing more than normal. In fact, the Mayor was so distracted by the DMO's poor handling of the winter weather that there was almost no interference from City Hall the past few weeks.

By all accounts Frank Reagan was having a pretty good month.

Yet all evidence indicated he was shouldering a heavy burden.

His fist dropped to the desktop and he knocked once as he remembered, "The 2-7. I need to talk with Captain Alford."

Abbey nodded and jotted it down. "I'll get him on the line first thing." She looked back, "Will that be all?"

"For now." He affirmed.

She picked up her notepad and stood from her chair. As she reached for the door handle she notice the Commissioner had again brought his hand to his face, this time pinching the bridge of he nose between his thumb and forefinger.

She dropped her hand from the door and turned back to face him, "Sir…?"

He looked up, fingers slipping away from his face, "What is it, Baker?"

"Are you…", She hesitated then took a step closer, "I'm sorry." She started again, "Just, you've seemed tired. Is everything okay?"

His shoulders relaxed and he gave her a small, sad smile. "I don't think it's a secret around here that sometimes I find sleep evasive."

She nodded in acknowledgement, "No Sir. But I would think that usually there is a reason." She shrugged, "So if there is anything I can be doing to help…"

His smile morphed into a resigned grimace, "Thank you but no…" He sighed, "No real reason. Nothing to be done."

She frowned. "I was once prescribed sleeping pills. They really helped to kind of reset my system." She shrugged, "Might be worth a try."

"I've got my own prescriptions." He smirked.

Abbey rolled her eyes assuming he was referring to the Reagan's appreciation of scotch in the evening.

She was ready to let it drop when his smirk faded and he leaned back in his chair pursing his lips, "When was that?" He asked with an air of faux casualness, gesturing in her direction, "Your bout with insomnia. Recently?"

She clenched her notepad and shook her head, "No."

He kept her pinned under his curious stare and she shifted her weight.

He winced and looked away, "I'm sorry, none of my business."

"No, it's no problem." She shook her head and shrugged one shoulder, "It was a decade ago."

"Oh." The quiet utterance was grave enough that Abbey knew she didn't need to elaborate as to the origin of her sleep problems.

She bit her lip, "For the first couple of weeks after 9/11 it wasn't an issue; we were working twelve hour shifts and, like everyone, I was volunteering time too so when I did have a few hours to grab some sleep I was too exhausted to do anything but pass out."

"But after everything settled…" He prompted.

She nodded, "Then there was time for my brain to go in to overdrive."

"Yeah." He commiserated shortly, looking down.

The empathy in the short word was so pronounced and bare that for a beat she was tempted to ask him about his own experience but stopped herself.

She took a breath, consciously relaxing her shoulders. "It took a while to get around to my department mandated psych session but once the department shrink heard my story she referred me to a private therapist; he's the one who suggested the sleeping pills and they really helped." She felt herself smile as she recalled the relief of finally feeling normal again after so many weeks being anxious and unsettled. "Working with him and taking the pills just kind of quieted the thoughts and let me get back into a normal rhythm again."

"You saw a private therapist?" Frank looked up, piqued.

She tilted her head, surprised at his interest, "Yes. I was under the impression that a lot of the department ended up doing so."

"They did." He nodded, then, with a smirk, he added, "It's just that most of them try to pretend like they didn't."

She shrugged, "Maybe it's easier being a woman, but I never saw any shame in it." Her eyes flicked to familiar picture of the towers that was on the shelf behind him, "It was a traumatic day. Dr. Goodwin helped."

He pursed his lip and gave an agreeable bob of his head.

She glanced over his tense frame and tired, pensive face and her concern rose in her chest and she gave voice to the question she had previously withheld.

"What about you Sir?"

His head shot up and he looked back at her, eyes narrowed.

She took a small step closer, bringing her hands down to rest on the back of the chair in front of his desk, "You were there through the thick of it and round the clock for what, two, three weeks? You didn't talk to anyone after?"

He frowned and his eyes dropped from her face and his hands fidgeted aimlessly across the desktop. "I had Mary." He looked back up with a tight smile, "Inner demons were no match for her."

She wasn't quite sure how to respond and there was a long heavy silence until he pushed back from the desk and exhaled, "Well." He put on an attempt at a real smile.

She matched it, "I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to get so personal."

He held up a hand, "I'm pretty sure I started it."

"Still." She tilted her head and then gestured to her notepad, "I'll call up to the 2-7."

"Thank you." He nodded, picking up his glasses and shifting around the folders on his desk.

* * *

"Baker, where were we?" The Commissioner shouted through the closing door.

She made eye contact with Garrett as he left the office; the DCPI looking notably more amused than he had when they first realized the PC was missing from the building.

Not being quite so ready to be forgiving she fixed a frown on her face and moved into the office.

"I believe I was asking where you went and you were blowing me off, Sir."

He looked up from his laptop, mouth open in surprise and loss for words.

She stared silently back until he capitulated with a shake of his head, "You know, even _I_ am entitled to a private life without everyone in this building needing to know every detail of my day."

She narrowed her eyes, trying and failing to read him.

"No one disagrees." She waited for him to look back at her, "But you lied to me and didn't even talk to your detail."

He grimaced and shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

She shook her head, "It wasn't even a very good lie." She glanced at the clock, "You were gone for over an hour and a half; did you really think it wouldn't come up that you weren't in the DCPI's office that whole time?"

He dropped his hands to his lap and looked away, "Pops always said good cops make bad liars."

"Well, then maybe you shouldn't do it." She countered.

He rolled his eyes and scowled.

She adjusted her notepad in her hand, "Sir…" she paused, "You absolutely are allowed to do what you want with or without telling anyone the specifics. But if you're going out in the middle of the day you can just tell me that. All I need to know is when you'll be back and if I can call while you're gone."

He sighed and looked down, "I know. I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking."

She rolled her eyes, "Also…"

"Also? Also what?" He snarked, "I apologized, can we get back to work now?"

She glared, "Also…" She started again.

"You know most detectives in this department wouldn't dare to stand there and lecture the PC…" He muttered, not making eye contact and fidgeting with his computer's position on the desk.

She raised an eyebrow but decided to brave on, ignoring his gripe, "You had Detective Nuciforo worried."

His defensive tension slipped and he glanced to the door and back to Abbey.

She watched him carefully, "I thought we talked about this last year."

He frowned, "About what?"

"About when you should have the detail with you." She clarified.

He nodded, "We did. And we agreed that it was ultimately my call."

She frowned, "Yes, but didn't we tighten it back up again after …"

"I was shot?" He finished for her. He shook his head and pointed an accusatory finger in her direction, "No. _You_ folks got all mother hen-ish afterwards but we never formally changed anything." He smiled, satisfactorily.

She frowned, trying to recall the specifics of the discussions the previous year.

"Regardless…" The Commissioner sighed, "You're right, I should have given the guys a heads up. I'll talk with Jim on the ride home, smooth things over."

She looked at him; he was clearly tired and rebuked and frustrated. There was something else simmering that she couldn't quite interpret. She relented, swallowed her frustration and exhaled.

"Chief Hunter's authorization request to run his undercover in NJ."

His brow furrowed, "What?"

She gave him a conciliatory smile, "It's where we were before you stepped out."

"Ah." He nodded once, "Okay, is he saying we would inform Newark PD?"

She glanced over the brief, "No, he wants to keep it close hold."

He reached out, "Alright, let me read what he has."

He accepted the folder from her, dropping it in front of him and scanning the top sheet.

She watched him, looking for a clue to anything that would help explain his odd behavior and if there was anything she could be doing.

He looked up, "What is it Baker?"

She winced and he sighed, "Spit it out Detective."

"Sir…" She started hesitantly, "Last week you said your wife was who you were able to talk to after 9/11."

He looked back at her, unmoving.

She looked down and then back up to meet his eyes, "I guess I was just wondering if you have someone you can talk to _now_."

He flinched and looked down. His mustache rolled as he pulled on his lip with his teeth.

He looked up, exposed, "I don't know." He swallowed, "But I'm working on it."

* * *

The following Monday she responded to the intercom to find the Commissioner staring at his phone, elbows braced on the desk and his chin tucked into his thumbs, forefingers pressed against his mustache.

He glanced up as she entered, pulling his head back and rubbing his hands together as he lowered them.

"Uhm.." He started but had to stop and clear his throat. When he looked back to her it was with red-rimmed eyes. "Clear everything after 12:00 on Wednesday."

"Sir?" She stepped forward.

He swallowed and pursed his lips, "Do you remember John McKenna?"

She nodded, "Of course I do."

"He passed away." The Commissioner took a deep breath, "His funeral will be at 4 on Wednesday."

"Oh…" Abbey blinked trying to think of the last time she had seen him, probably not since their first year on the 14th floor.

She frowned, "I'm sorry."

He looked down, "We weren't as close as we used to be…"

"Still..." She sighed, "He had retired, right?"

"Disability." He looked at her dolefully, "9/11 related respiratory failure. Emphysema and asbestosis which turned in to mesothelioma a while back."

He cleared his throat and pushed away from the desk, standing and walking over to the water pitcher behind the sofa. He kept his eyes focused out the window as he poured himself a glass.

"So, I take it this wasn't a surprise." She watched him.

He shook his head, not taking his eyes from the city. "He fell into a coma a couple of weeks ago. They did Last Rights yesterday."

Quietly, Abbey did the math on the time between McKenna's coma and the Commissioner's sleeplessness.

She sighed heavily at the connection and leaned back on the arm of one of the chairs. Unbidden, a memory flashed across her mind and she smiled, "I obviously didn't know him well, but I will never forget seeing him smile at me through that hole."

Frank turned from the window and looked at her contemplatively.

She frowned, "I remember it like a snapshot and I held on to that memory because if he could smile at that moment then..." She bit her lip, unable to articulate the comfort she had taken from the small gesture. She shook her head, "But now when I think of it I'll have to wonder if things would have turned out differently for him had he had something covering that smile."

Frank's face tightened in thought. His eyes lost focus as he searched for a memory. He tilted his head, "I didn't remember that." He paused and moved to lean against the arm of the sofa, perpendicular to her, "That he wasn't wearing a facemask that morning."

Abbey nodded, "Like I said, it's like a Polaroid in my mind; You all wrapped up like an eskimo and him in his plaid shirt and cap."

A small smile tugged at the edge of Frank's lips, "That's right... He was headed to a ball game or vacation or something and showed up all dressed down."

"Well, _you_ were wearing dress slacks." Abbey pointed out, "Not much better."

"That's because I was supposed to be here that morning." He smirked.

"Really?" Abbey tilted her head.

Frank nodded, "This very office. There was a borough meeting with the PC." He gestured to the bookshelf in the corner, "The desk was over there then. It was all the Brooklyn Deputies, I was standing right around where you are now." He turned his attention back out the window, "First plane hit and the PC was called to OEM at City Hall. The second plane hit as the rest of us were leaving and we knew we had to get down there."

He drained his glass and crossed his arms over his chest. "John just showed up. We were at the FDNY CP in the lobby of tower 1 trying to come up with a game plan and suddenly, there was John; looking ready for the ball game."

He frowned, "After the South Tower collapsed and the radios were crapping out we sent Bell and LaBonte to find a CP and get word to us directly about what was happening. McKenna and I were on the 14th floor when Bell called with the evac order."

He looked to Abbey, "But John wanted to keep going." He shook his head, "He looked at me and said there were still people there, people who didn't get the call we just did, people we could help. He wanted to keep climbing until we found the FDNY who were above us."

His lower lip rolled in and he looked down. He took a shuddering breath. "I put my foot down and told him no. I said an order was an order." He swallowed, "What I didn't explain was that all I could think about was how Jamie had just started college and still needed his father. How I wanted to watch Danny go through fatherhood with Jack. How Nicky was starting to be able to really talk and have conversations." He paused, inhaling deeply, "How Mary had made me promise to not actively put myself in harms way once I stopped being on the street every day."

"It's not like John didn't have a beautiful family, too." Frank looked down, "But he was _so_ committed. There is no way he would have left if I hadn't pulled rank on him. He just couldn't bear leaving when there was still someone he might be able to help."

He took a deep breath and rubbed his brow, a thumb subtly wiping at his eye.

Abbey wrapped her arms around herself. "So you compromised by coming back once the tower collapsed?"

To her surprise the Commissioner huffed a small laugh, "We didn't really come back so much as were trying to figure our own way out."

She tilted her head, puzzled.

He shrugged, "We spent so much time arguing in the stairwell that we didn't have time to clear the building. We were barely outside when it started to come down so we jumped in the cab of a fire truck."

"So you were buried too?" She blinked, processing this new information.

From her perspective she had been panicked and stuck and assumed that the two senior ranking officers who had saved her were cool, calm and in control as they strategically combed the ruins for survivors. She had never considered that they were as upended as she was, just a bit luckier.

"Not exactly." He shook his head, "The truck was, partially. We couldn't get the doors back open but we were able to climb out the open jump seat. The whole reason I wrapped my face to begin with was because I couldn't close the hatch when all the crap started flying in."

He breathed out, "But you remember how dark it was, we couldn't see anything and didn't know which way to go. It was total disorientation, like a swimmer tossed in a wave." He smirked darkly, "Looking back now, we were probably in shock to some extent. For some reason we thought the most logical thing to do was to split up."

Abbey frowned, "Well to me, you both were at the right place at the right time. "

He looked over, locking eyes for a long moment.

He relented with a bob of his eyebrows, "I guess a boss' instinct is to never let on when it's really the blind leading the blind at any particular moment."

"I never knew." She noted.

"Now you know." The smile he gave her was tepid and he pushed away from the edge of the sofa and poured himself another glass of water by the window.

She stayed in position, watching him.

"What?" He arched his eyes at her attention.

She sighed, "I'm sorry, I just…" She frowned, "That was a lot…that you went through. From having to make the choice to leave to whatever it was like in the fire truck to trying to get out and feeling like you needed to act like you knew what was happening for the sake of some young blonde who managed to get stuck in a stairwell."

"Makes for a pretty good story, eh?" He smiled dismissively.

"One that you never tell." She kept him pinned with an intent gaze as his smile slipped away.

She shook her head, "I was there that day with you and in the past 7 years I've spent more time working with you than almost anyone else and although I've heard you mention that you were in the North Tower, I've never had any idea what your whole experience was."

He look to the glass in his hands, "It's not exactly something to revel in."

"It can't be good to completely suppress though either." She countered.

He jerked his head up, frowning.

She sighed and straightened. "I'm sorry if I'm overstepping. Blame the hormones for inappropriate levels of concern."

At that, he genuinely smiled; it was small but the amusement deepened his dimples and reached his eyes. He walked past her and stood behind his desk, "You know, I tried going to a shrink."

She blinked. "What?" She frowned, "I thought you said you didn't."

"I _hadn't…_ " The smile remained on his face, "But after _someone,_ " he looked at her pointedly, "Called me out and shared her experience I thought I might at least try."

Her jaw slacked and she consciously, pulled her mouth closed in attempt to not reveal how gobsmacked she was, "Did it help?"

He shot her a deadpan glare and she had to bite back a giggle in spite of the tragic nature of the truth.

"I said I _tried_." He shrugged, "I think we should be impressed I made it that far and call it a day."

She nodded, "Yes, sir. Of course." She stepped toward the door before adding, "Though I really am sorry that it didn't work out for you."

He shrugged it off, "It's not worth trying to explain it all to someone who wasn't there to experience it for themselves. I know all New Yorkers were affected but there's a difference between where he was sitting and where I was sitting." He smiled wistfully, "Some things just need to stay locked in the box."

She frowned, consciously deciding against nodding her acceptance. "I also am sorry about Chief McKenna, sir. I'll make sure to clear Wednesday afternoon."

"Thank you, Baker."

As she left the office she noticed him turning back to look out the window.

* * *

Thursday morning Abbey arrived to the office and turned on her computer as she began pulling the folders relevant to the Commissioner's morning schedule.

A quick glance at the ComStat highlights for the previous night showed no pressing emergency and she printed out the daily schedule. Grabbing it off the printer she snapped it into a bright blue folder and picked up the small stack of briefs and memos destined for the Commissioner's desk.

She hadn't made it two steps into the office when she realized she wasn't alone.

The Commissioner, the man whom she was fairly certain hadn't had a solid night's rest in weeks, was sound asleep on the leather couch.

He was still in his dress uniform jacket, commendation rack pressing into his chin. His trench coat, hat and tie were tossed haphazardly on the table. She couldn't help but note the lack of scotch bottle or glass.

His mustache twitched and for a moment she thought he might wake but he mumbled something incoherently, shifted his shoulder and settled back peacefully.

She moved as quietly as possible to the desk, placing the folders down. With a smile and a glance at the finally sleeping man she unplugged the desk phone and slipped silently out of the office.


	35. Flabbergast

_A/N - Thank you for your patience and special thank you to the commenter who inquired if I am alright. A combination of writer's block and going back to work (yay!) made writing difficult but I've got the next few chapters sketched out so I should be posting relatively regularly again. Just not as much time to write as previously._

 _I struggled with the second half of the season trying to find ways to fit Baker into the story; everyone had pretty silo-ed story lines and I don't want to repeat too much of the same angst that had previously been touched upon for most characters. To me, the unique thread through season 2 is Frank's exhaustion and reluctance about the position - from the first episode when he hesitates to raise his hand about signing back on to the last episode where he flat out tells Henry how tired he is. So this chapter serves as a little bit of a bridge through the back half of the season before it gets wrapped up._

 _This takes place between 2.18 and 2.19 ("No Questions Asked" & "Some Kind of Hero") Next chapter will be the season finale and then on to Season 3!_

 _THANK YOU!_

* * *

Abbey subtly shifted in her seat, attempting to relieve the pain in her lower back. The Commissioner kept his eyes on the dossier in front of him but the sideways looks from Garrett and Chief Hines told her that her discomfort was not going unnoticed.

She tried not to let her frustration at the attention show even as she resisted the urge to readjust her waistband.

It seemed like now, at the end of her 7th month, she couldn't move up in the maternity sizes fast enough. Brian insisted he was thrilled with her pronounced pregnancy body but no amount of kisses could smother her self-doubt.

As the uneasiness and anxiety grew so did her acute awareness of the unbalance of testosterone in her life. There were plenty of women working at 1 PP with whom she was friendly-ish but where her _'ice queen'_ persona had always been an asset for being taken seriously within the NYPD, it wasn't exactly conducive for developing close work friendships.

There had been a startling moment of self-awareness when she realized her closest relationship in the building was the Commissioner and her closest friends were Garrett and Jim; none of whom were particularly appealing potential confidants regarding the physical and emotional challenges of pregnancy.

Erin Reagan had offered to be an ear and they had crossed paths few times over the winter, exchanging pleasantries, but Abbey didn't quite feel comfortable imposing on the ADA by calling just to vent about swollen ankles and oblivious men.

Despite her mother and Brian's best efforts Abbey was spending more and more of her days uncomfortable, full of anxiety and feeling isolated.

Those feelings were magnified as she sat stuck in interminable meetings that tried her rapidly fraying patience.

Unaware his primary aid was praying to be dismissed, the Commissioner pondered the draft in front of him before shaking his head and flicking at the paper, "It's still not right."

Garrett turned up his hands, "It's the third draft!"

"I wouldn't advertise that fact." Frank shot back.

Garrett leaned forward and snapped the sheet from the Commissioner, "Somehow I don't think your objections are grammatical."

Chief Hines straightened in his chair uncomfortably and Abbey swallowed the urge to sigh. The bickering between the Commissioner and his DCPI could occasionally be entertaining but at the moment their squabble was just grating on her already frayed nerves.

"I could overlook it if there were grammatical issues." The Commissioner picked up a pen and gestured to the statement, "But when you insist on pandering…"

"They are _our guests_ …" Garrett pushed.

Frank shook his head, "Not by _my_ choice. The Moscow PD has been credibly accused of terrorizing citizens of their own country. I've had enough cases in Brighton Beach to know _exactly_ how 'respected' that particular department is."

Garrett's eyes widened and he sat forward in his chair. "Frank…" His tone was full of warning.

The Commissioner held up a placating hand, "I promise I will do my part to be diplomatic but I do _not_ have to heap praise upon them."

"This is hardly heaping praise." Garrett grouched, glancing over the statement again.

Abbey shifted again, refraining from pressing a hand to her abdomen but unable to contain an eye roll.

Chief Hines winced sympathetically. He shifted forward, "Sir, I could take care of it."

Everyone turned attention to him.

"Ed?" The Commissioner raised his eyebrows.

The Chief shrugged, "I could escort the folks from Moscow. Keep you out of it."

Garrett blinked, pleased and looked to Frank for approval.

The Commissioner locked eyes with Abbey for a beat, glanced to Garrett and then finally nodded to Ed. "Good. Thanks."

Abbey smothered her sigh of relief, placed the cap on her pen and tapped her notepad. "That should be it for today's agenda."

"Eh…" Garrett's utterance paused the group as each had begun to stand.

The Commissioner frowned and looked back to his DCPI.

The two men held a silent conversation, Garrett inclining his chin and raising his eyebrows.

Frank tilted his head then nodded, "Right…"

He sighed and turned his attention to Abbey, "Sorry detective, I know you were trying to get out of here early tonight but I need you to stick around."

She swallowed her disappointment and forced a neutral smile, "Of course sir. What do you need?"

He gestured to Garrett, "A preliminary task force meeting for security for the Tribeca festival is starting in 5 minutes. I want to have eyes and ears in that meeting but the firm working the Visa breech is meeting with TARU this evening and I need to sit in on that one."

"Okay." She nodded despite being disappointed she had to give up her planed Epsom bath to take minutes at a task force meeting. "I didn't have the Tribeca briefing in my building schedule, where is it?"

"7th floor conference room." The Commissioner answered as he stood. Garrett and Hines followed suit, Abbey a beat slower.

He led the way to the door and gestured for the three to exit in front of him, "I'll swing by with you so you don't need to make apologies for my absence."

She nodded and paused at her desk to pick-up a new notepad before joining them at the elevator.

She smirked at Chief Hine's slightly agitated push of the elevator button as Garrett and Frank resumed their bickering, this time about parking infractions of UN Delegates.

The two men kept up the asinine debate through the duration of the elevator ride and the walk down the 7th floor hallway, only stopping once they reached the conference room.

Abbey came to a stop just after the Commissioner gestured her through the door.

As opposed to the expected set-up of rows of chairs occupied by uniformed officers, the room was crowded with a variety of people milling about in small groups and instead of the familiar detail assignments, the white board had a colorful "CONGRATULATIONS" boldly drawn across it with balloons pegged to the cork board.

Abbey looked around for who was being feted only to have the pieces begin to click into place upon seeing the Commissioner & Garrett's matching grins.

Her eyes narrowed and she was about to speak when Erin Reagan noticed them in the doorway and gathered the attention of the group, "Oh! Hey! Everyone!"

The conversations halted, the buzz of discussion replaced with applause and shouts of "Congratulations!" and "Surprise!"

She blinked, feeling her jaw slack open.

Garrett laughed out loud, "Baker, do you really think there could have been anything on the PC's schedule that you wouldn't have known about?"

She gaped and turned back to the crowd. The entire staff of the 14th floor was there in addition the majority of the 1PP chiefs, their support staff and several members of the Reagan family.

A table against the wall held pieces of pink and blue frosted cake and flutes of sparkling cider. An adjoining table was piled with wrapped gifts and envelopes.

She blinked rapidly, "I don't…I don't know what to say." She covered her trembling smile with a hand for a moment, "Thank you, everyone. I have no words for how grateful I am that you took the time out of your day… "

"We just stopped by because Erin said there would be cake." Danny announced before Jackie elbowed him in the ribs.

Abbey laughed, "Seems like a good enough reason to me!"

The group joined in the chuckle and began to relax back into the previous cliques and conversations.

Abbey took the moment to breath deeply and steady herself against the emotions that were trying to push to the forefront.

Erin approached, gesturing to a padded chair, "We brought in one of the office chairs if you wanted to sit down."

Abbey shook her head, "Thank you so much Erin, I am really… I really don't know what to say."

Erin smiled, "I just did the leg work." She gestured to Garrett and her Father, "It was their idea." She narrowed her eyes at the men, "Though they were _supposed_ to have you down here nearly 10 minutes ago."

Abbey turned to her boss and his deputy with raised eyebrows.

Frank shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged, while Garrett's smile broadened, "When word started to spread, people kept asking me if we would be doing some kind of baby shower for you. All I did was pass the inquiries on to Frank."

The Commissioner winced, "I figured there would be _something_ … it just took me a few weeks to realize that nothing gets scheduled around here without you being the one to do it." He gestured to Erin, "Hence..."

Erin rolled her eyes, "Two weeks of trying to wrangle answers and schedules from these two was worse then any cross examination. I don't know how you do it every day."

Abbey smiled, "I don't know if you've heard, I but I'm taking a three month vacation soon." She smirked at the Commissioner who replied with an indulgent bounce of his eyebrows. She glanced back at the table of gifts, "I just hope people didn't feel like they were obligated."

Frank shook his head, "I think you under estimate how popular you are around here."

"Absolutely." Erin nodded in agreement, "Most of the reactions I got were ' _Oh good_ '; people were really excited about the opportunity to celebrate with you."

Abbey looked down, biting her lip and feeling the blush creep up her neck.

The Commissioner shrugged, " _And_ it's been too long since we've had a social gathering. Was about time."

Abbey's eyes shot to his. The last 1PP social had been cancelled; it was supposed to be Memorial Day weekend 2009, barely 2 weeks after Joe's death. Since then the Commissioner had withdrawn from socializing with most of his coworkers and much of the building had followed suit.

Erin shifted, seeming to also understand the unspoken weight of her father's pronouncement.

She connected eyes with him and flashed a small, sad smile before turning a brighter grin to Abbey. "I think there are some people who want to say something but are probably hesitant to interrupt."

The Commissioner smirked in amused understanding as Erin ushered Abbey into the throng of colleagues eager to share their congratulations.

* * *

An hour later the clock had crept past 7pm.

She had managed to chat with almost everyone; she hadn't realized how many people in the building were parents themselves and she was treated to an array of first pregnancy / first child anecdotes that left her simultaneously amused and horrified along with a new sense of bonding.

Megan from the Chief of Department's office suggested a line of maternity clothes that were more forgiving of the rapid changes in the final trimester, Susan from the Transportation Bureau had a horror story about almost giving birth in a squad car and even Tim Greene from the budget office had a suggestion for a pillow he said was great for lower back pain.

At some point the Commissioner had loosened his collar which someone had taken as permission to break out some beverages in addition to the sparkling cider. The crowd had thinned slightly but most still lingered and the gathering had transitioned away from a baby shower into a general opportunity for coworkers to enjoy some unstructured time together.

Abbey was more than happy for the change in tone. She had truly appreciated the gesture and was overwhelmed by her colleague's generosity but she preferred seeing everyone relaxing with one another as opposed to being the sole guest of honor.

She was sitting back, reflecting on her good fortune and listening in on Rachel Stofey and Anthony Mitchell as they had a light hearted argument about the Detective Bureau's new database.

"It ain't that great." Danny Reagan suddenly stepped into the middle of the discussion, "It took me two days to connect prints we supposedly had in our system because two people in the Bronx have the same name."

Rachel gestured victoriously, " _Exactly!_ The old system you could use more variables to clean up duplicates and avoid erroneous matches."

"The old system had the same exact problem but it was so bloated we never realized it." Anthony shook his head, "The new system is just letting us see all the conflicts that have existed for years."

Rachel rolled her eyes and Danny shrugged.

"Reagan," Anthony turned to Danny, "Just last week you collared a guy off of the facial recognition program, right?"

Danny nodded, "Yeah…"

"Well…" Anthony gestured, "That software only works piggy-backed onto this new database."

"Huh." Danny nodded, "Okay, that _was_ cool."

"Yeah, it was pretty great." Jackie agreed with her partner, "Saved our case."

"Which case was that?" The Commissioner came up from behind Abbey's chair, beer in hand.

"Ehhh…" A look of discomfort crossed Danny's face, "The pharmacy shooting." He winced to his father who simply raised his eyebrows, a silent conversation passing between the two men.

Abbey was unaware of the source of the undercurrent but Curatola seemed to be in on it and she stepped slightly forward, "About that, Sir…It was my fault…"

Whatever she was trying to admit to, Danny cut her off with a hand on her arm and a shake of his head.

He dismissed her whispered "Danny…" with a quiet, "Let it go, Jack."

The Commissioner looked on with patient intrigue.

Jackie bit her lip but unable to contain herself she spoke up again, "Really sir, Danny wanted to play it straight on this one."

"Did he now?" The corner of Commissioner's lip ticked up in a subdued smirk as he looked to his son.

Jackie nodded. "When he sent Officer Perez packing I even told him he was sounding like you."

"Oh?" He smiled as Danny looked more and more uncomfortable.

"Absolutely." Curatola confirmed, clearly aware of the reactions she was getting from the two Reagans, "Right down to lecturing…" She winced, "I mean… _talking_ about the responsibilities of wearing the uniform."

A beat passed and the Commissioner's amused smile faded into something softer and more genuine, "I'm glad you pointed it out Detective." He waited until Danny was looking back up, "I think that sometimes it gets obscured how similar we can be."

Danny's eyes locked to his father's and another silent conversation passed until Danny broke it off, "Well, _unlike_ you I have an allergy to being in this building for too long." He made a vague gesture in the air, "Too much risk for paper cuts," He jostled his partner, "Jackie? You ready to head out?"

"Oh...Yeah, sure." She reached for her coat, "Commissioner." She acknowledged her superior as she stepped away.

"Good to see you Detective." He nodded to her but held out a hand to stall Danny's departure, "Did Linda need Pops to bring Jack to lacrosse practice tomorrow?"

Danny shook his head, "Nah, I'll take him; we've got an open house at the school anyway."

"Fun." He teased lightly dismissing his son with a pat on the shoulder, "See you Sunday."

"Sunday." Danny agreed with a nod, following his partner out the door.

Abbey watched as Frank gazed after the detectives for a long beat.

Sensing her eyes he turned to her and she smiled, "Really, Sir, thank you for this."

He settled into the chair next to her, "I didn't do anything." With a pause he surveyed the room, "But this was good. Needed."

She raised her eyebrows and he explained with a grimace, "It's been an draining 6 months for everyone."

She frowned. Aside from the unrest fueled by Reverend Potter and then Detective Gate's death it had actually been a pretty quiet winter for the NYPD as a whole.

She looked her boss over; top button popped, beer held loosely in his hands, his eyes tracking the various groups mingling in the room. Despite being as relaxed as she had seen him in years, he still managed to look tired, as if he knew that this was just a momentary reprieve from the exhaustion he had been internalizing for months.

She sighed, knowing she was not helping.

"Sir? Have you decided what we're going to do with my position while I'm out?"

He winced and looked down before looking back in her direction, "No…" The admission was reluctantly petulant and she couldn't help but grin.

"I can take care of it," She offered, "I just want to make sure it's someone that you'd be okay with."

He shrugged, "It will be an adjustment no matter who." He fiddled with his beer, "But since you're mentioning it, can we move up the annual budget review to May instead of June?" He winced, "I'd rather not have a new person trying to figure all that out."

"Maybe..." She frowned, this was the latest in a string of things he had asked to schedule before her departure and the schedule was getting tight, certainly offering no relief from the pressures on the Commissioner. She looked at him, "The schedule is pretty full."

He waived away her concern, "Toss it on a weekend if we need to. It always eats up most a day anyway." He shrugged, "How about the 12th?"

She tilted her head trying to figure out how he had jumped to that particular Saturday but was interrupted from further discussion by the appearance of Chief Kent.

"Commissioner. Detective." He greeted simply, "Hope I'm not interrupting?"

"Just talking shop." Frank smiled at his old friend, "Join us?"

"Glad to." Don Kent pulled up a seat and glanced to the corner of the room where Jim Nucifero was chatting with Henry and Jamie Reagan. He looked back to Frank with a knowing grin, "I heard a story about a young officer doing some respectable undercover work for OCCB."

The casualness in Frank's demeanor immediately fled and his eyes narrowed, glancing around for close ears, "That shouldn't be common knowledge."

Kent smiled, placating, "Trust me. It's not."

"What you digging for, Don?" Frank scrutinized the other man.

Kent leaned back, "You ever read any Simon Fuller?"

Frank shook his head, "Should I have?"

"He has a lot to say about consciousness and self awareness in the context of Christian doctrine and the modern age." The Chief explained. "He mixes in all kinds of other cultures though; some impressive parallels with Native American philosophy."

"Don…" Frank sighed, "I really don't follow…"

Kent ignored Frank's resistance, "He has a bit about personal plans unfolding when one commits to following the passion of the heart. How unexpected talents can appear when you are excited about the work you're doing."

"Okay…" Frank nodded, patiently waiting for the explanation.

"I'm just saying." Don nodded in Jamie's direction, "The rumor is that this undercover has a talent for the work he's doing for OCCB. If it turns out that that talent is born from a personal passion that he wants to pursue, I would be happy to have him on one of my teams."

Frank closed his eyes for a beat then looked back up to his old friend without a word. Don smiled, "Look, I know how you feel; remember when Thomas pulled that decoy duty his third year in?"

Frank replied with a pained smile and knowing bob of his head.

Don shrugged, "So I get it. I also understand the history with Jamie and Mary and whatever it is you think you're shouldering with all of that. But…" He waited for Frank's full attention, "I also know that when kids are following their passion there is nothing a father can do to stop them."

Frank looked down to his beer and Kent took a swig from his, "So, I'm just saying, if you're fighting a loosing battle, steer him my way. You know I'd have his back as if he were my own."

Frank nodded slowly and swallowed, "Thanks Don."

The Chief stood, "And, don't forget, Maggie is still on me about getting you out to the house for dinner."

Frank's smile lightened considerably, "Of course, may be later this month?"

"Sure." The Chief grinned, "Fair warning though, she has a friend she keeps making noise would be good for you."

"Well…" Frank sighed uncomfortably.

"Don't worry about it boss, I've got your back." Don held out his hand and Frank stood to shake it.

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

Chief Kent nodded his departure and Frank shook his head, glancing back to Abbey who smiled broadly back at him.

The Commissioner opened his mouth then sighed and his shoulders relaxed. He shook his head, "Maggie Kent wants to mother the whole department."

Abbey shrugged, "May be she's right."

She froze, she hadn't intended for the words to escape her but as she considered the seemingly continuous wearied state of the Commissioner, she couldn't help but think that perhaps Maggie Kent _did_ have a point.

An unusual smirk crossed the Commissioner's face but he was distracted by whatever he was about to say by the approach of his father and youngest.

"Hey!" The Commissioner's countenance lightened noticeably.

"Hey." Jamie replied evenly before turning to Abbey, "Detective." He greeted stiltedly, "Congratulations."

She smiled, "Thank you." She tilted her head, "You're looking better then the last time I saw you. How's the beat on the street?"

"Something different everyday." He replied so readily that she would have suspected it to be a practiced line if not the accompanying genuine glint in his eyes and she grinned.

"Abigail..." Henry leaned in over her shoulder, "Did you know that you can pick the date for labor to be induced?"

She blinked at the non sequitur as the Commissioner balked at his father, "Pops!"

"What?" Henry shrugged. He turned back to Abbey, "There's a baby pool going around and I just figured if you had a date planned, I might be able to get the inside scoop."

"Pops!" The Commissioner again countered in exasperation.

The older man brushed off his son's rebuke, "Of course we'd split the pot." He smiled charmingly at her.

Abbey chuckled, "I'm sorry, all we have is a due date of May 18th."

Henry gave a familiar eyebrow shrug, "It was worth a shot." He glanced up to his son, "Francis, you almost ready to go?"

Frank glanced at his watch and sighed, "I suppose so."

"Got plans?" Jamie looked between the two older men.

"Not really." Frank answered brusquely as Henry snapped his attention back to him with barely concealed amusement.

Jamie ignored the strange interplay. "I've got back to back 12s so I guess I should bounce too." He nodded to Abbey, "Congratulations again." Then looking to his family, "Dad, Grandpa. Erin." He waived to get his sister's attention.

"Be careful out there." Henry cautioned.

"Yes, Sir." Jamie jauntily saluted as he dipped out the door.

Frank glanced around at the mostly dispersed crowd, "Looks like everything is breaking up anyway."

Abbey nodded in agreement, "Well, thank you again, Sir, Erin. This was a fantastic break from everything."

"Yes, thank you for everything, sweetheart." Frank dropped a paternal kiss on Erin's cheek as she moved closer to the group.

"I know how hard everyone here works." She leaned into her father's side, "I was happy to help coordinate a little relief."

"That reminds me, Baker," Henry, touched her elbow, "Detective Nucifero took the gifts down to the car, he said he would leave the envelopes in your desk but to send him a text with a good time and he'll drop off the boxes this weekend."

Startled, she looked back to the now empty gift table, "I didn't even notice…" She blinked, "He didn't need to do that."

"I think he knew it would be a hassle otherwise." Henry observed, "He wanted to make sure you weren't having to carry anything."

"I think Jim is the one having the hardest time with your approaching absence." The Commissioner smiled at her.

She took a deep breath, incredibly touched at the support around her.

"You alright?" The Commissioner asked, a tilt of his head.

Abbey nodded, "Absolutely."

"In that case I think, we're heading out." The Commissioner gestured for his father and daughter to move to the door.

As they reached the hall Erin looked to her father, "You know, if you go straight home you should catch CNN's airing of the most recent Melanie Maines report…"

Henry's laughter filled the hall as Abbey dismissed the odd comment and turned to say her goodbyes to the lingering colleagues.


	36. Pertinacity

_A/N - Longest chapter yet...sorry, I try to keep each to a reasonable length but this just didn't feel right being broken into different chapters. It takes place entirely within the Season 2 finale "Mother's Day"_

* * *

"Erhm." Abbey grunted at the heft of the binder containing the department budget and set it down on the table next to 7 identical binders.

She winced slightly, pressing her side, that last one might have pulled a muscle. A movement at the doorway caught her eye and she looked up in time to see the Commissioner arrive.

"Everything ready?" He asked shortly.

She nodded, "Yes Sir, just need to make the coffee."

He gave a silent nod and disappeared into his private office without another word.

She shrugged off his curt dismissal; he was notoriously grumpy in mid-May, especially around Mother's Day and the anniversary of Joe's death. She understood his churlishness and did her best to smooth the way for others who may not be so well versed in the timing of the Commissioner's moods.

She breathed out and headed out to make the coffee, it was going to be needed.

* * *

Over the course of the morning the budget committee slowly ground through the 1,500 page document, occasionally calling on Abbey to pull up supporting documentation.

She was scanning through an excel sheet when Jim suddenly broke the silence, "Mr. Secretary.

"Jimmy." The Secretary of Homeland Security replied with a hint of surprise, holding out a hand, "You're working for Reagan?"

Jim accepted the handshake but did not reply to the question, "What can we do for you?"

The secretary grimaced, "It's not a social visit. I need to meet with the Commissioner in a secure setting."

Jim nodded curtly and the two men left without another word.

Hardly a minute after their departure Garrett's chipper greeting jarred her attention.

"Morning Abigail."

She sighed, "Hello Garrett."

"Aw, come on, it's a beautiful Saturday morning and you're at work." He teased, "Shouldn't you be happier?"

Garrett didn't wait for her to reply, just nodded to the conference room, "I'm going to steal him for a minute."

She waived him off, still distracted by the visit from DHS.

Her sense of foreboding intensified when Jim came striding back. She met his darkened eyes, and immediately moved to the office door.

"We can pull him, he's just in with Garrett." She swallowed her concern and led the way into the office. She watched with mounting apprehension as Jim briefed the Commissioner on his unexpected visitor.

She stood with Garrett as Frank and Jim stalked out of the office.

"Well, this can't be good." The DCPI speculated.

Abbey shook her head, "I'm pretty sure it's not."

"What do you think it is?"

She shook her head.

"Abbey…" Garrett pressed.

She glared at his insistence, "I really don't know."

She didn't bother to hold the door for Garrett as she left out the office but she heard him follow her out and then hesitate.

She turned around, raising an expecting eyebrow in his direction.

"What about the meeting?" He indicated the group in the conference room, "Think he'll be back or should we tell them not to wait up?"

"I don't have any more information than you." She sighed and pushed at the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on, jarred further by the sudden ringing of her phone..

She swallowed a grimace as she strained the same muscle again when she twisted to answer it. "Commissioner's office."

"Baker." Came the Commissioner's curt tone, "Send Chief Hines and DCPI Moore to the situation room."

"Yes sir." She nodded.

"And call in the DC of Intel and Counterterrorism, the corresponding Chiefs and the NYPD Supervising Surgeon ASAP."

Her eyes widened at that particular collection of brass, "Will do. Should I advise Deputy Commissioner Perez to continue the budget meeting in your absence?"

"No…" He instructed, voice tailing off a beat, "No, tell them to go home to their families."

She swallowed. "Yes Sir."

"I'm sorry but I need you to stay."

The weight in his voice awoke a new nerve in her and she pressed more firmly against her stomach.

"Of course. I didn't expect otherwise."

He exhaled wearily "Also…tell Strategic Response and Special Operations that they are on call."

The line clicked dead before she could confirm his instruction. She frowned and stared at the phone.

"Baker?" Garrett called her attention, "Do you want to sit down?"

"What?" She furrowed her brow.

He came around the desk and pulled her chair out for her, "You're looking pale."

She blinked and swallowed. This wasn't time to get sensitive, despite whatever games her hormones were playing with her mind.

She shook her head, "No. You need to get to the situation room."

Garrett straightened, hands still on the chair. "What?"

"Just go." She gestured, dropping the phone into its cradle and moving to the conference room door. The group around the table looked at her, "Chief Hines?"

The Chief of Department immediately darkened and began to rise from his chair.

"Downstairs." She instructed simply, knowing he would know she was referring to the secure room in the basement.

He squeezed past her and she looked around to the others in the room "I'm sorry, but a situation has arisen which will keep the Chief and the Commissioner for the rest of the day. He asked me to pass along his thanks and to encourage you all to go home and enjoy your weekend."

* * *

By the time she was done making her calls and rounding up the personnel she found herself alone in the office, surrounded by stillness.

She felt a pressure below her rib cage; the baby was restless. She gently rubbed a palm over where the small foot was kicking out, "Shhh, it's okay baby." She murmured. "Everything is going to be okay."

She took a shaky breath. Homeland Security, Counterterrorism and Intelligence, Medical, Strategic Response… It all added up to the very real possibility that everything _wasn't_ going to be okay.

They had outmaneuvered at least 3 other serious terrorist plots since moving to the 14th floor; she tried to tell herself this would be no different. Despite their track record, she found herself unable to fully believe her own assurances as she soothed her unborn child.

What tragedy might be unfolding? Would she be able to safely give birth and enjoy the moment or would it be in the midst of a national crisis stretching medical resources? Into what kind of world would she be introducing her child?

"Detective?" The familiar voice of the Mayor broke through her whirring thoughts.

"Mr. Mayor." She greeted.

He pulled at his sleeve cuffs and glanced around the empty office, "Where is Commissioner Reagan?"

Abbey swallowed, "Still downstairs."

The mayor nodded, glancing back to the elevator.

She shifted, "You could go down but he should be up soon; would you like to wait in his office?"

He glanced at his watch, "Please."

She winced as she stood, clasping a hand to her stomach as again the muscle panged. The mayor caught her hesitation, "Detective, are you okay?"

She straightened and flashed a wane smile.

"I'm, fine…" She took a breath and steadied herself before stepping around the desk and leading the way into the Commissioner's office. "Can I get you anything? There's water by the window, or I could bring in coffee? Tea?"

"No, thank you." He glanced at her uncertainly but she didn't linger, closing the door and leaning against the filing cabinet.

"Don't be causing any trouble…" She warned her stomach.

"Hate to break it to you, but asking kids not to cause trouble is a sure fired way to instigate some trouble." The Commissioner's voice came from the doorway.

She looked up and felt the blush rise up her cheeks. "Sir!"

He stepped forward, hands in his pockets, "Mary also used to talk to the kids when she was pregnant. Full on conversations" His lips quirked in a small smile and he looked away for a beat before returning his eyes to hers, "Everything okay?"

Considering where he had just come from his concern seemed incongruous. "I don't know; Is it?"

The hint of a grin faded from his face, "We're working on it."

She nodded in silent acceptance. After a beat she gestured to his office, "The Mayor is here."

He followed her indication and gave a huff, "How long?"

"Just a minute."

He nodded, "Okay." He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and proceeded through the door.

Abbey sank into her chair and adjusted her backrest. At a loss for something productive to contribute, she turned back to her computer, pulling up the software that tracked ongoing patrol reports.

The only variation from a typical spring weekend was that the Chief of Department had apparently ordered extra patrols to the train stations. The misdemeanor numbers and tickets were steadily rising.

As always when one of the Reagan clan appeared on the scroll, Danny Reagan's name caught her eye and she clicked on the report; a felony collar he had just entered into the system.

With interest she read that the arresting officer was Jamie. She wasn't sure how that could have played out but she smiled, imagining the two Reagan sons working together. If there was a peaceful moment perhaps she could find a way to mention the arrest to the Commissioner; perhaps it could provide a positive moment in the midst of a trying day.

* * *

Hours later there had been no opportunity for a light hearted break and Abbey's nerves were beginning to fray.

The Commissioner had remained in his office while Garrett shuffled in and out, checking his phone each time he stepped through the door.

The unusual quiet added to the tension and Abbey was beginning to think the ongoing cramp in her side was just her brain trying to distract her from the insufferability of waiting for news.

It was a relief when, finally, Chief Hines came hustling past, hardly waiting for her to encourage him along before he entered the office.

Within a minute he was passing back through with determined strides with the Commissioner and Garrett appearing shortly thereafter.

They were almost to the elevator when the Commissioner doubled back, "Baker."

She looked up, waiting.

He grimaced, "I told Erin I'd watch Nicky this evening, obviously not anticipating…" He gestured awkwardly.

Abbey nodded, "And you need me to intercept them while you're downstairs?"

He deflated, "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it." She assured.

He nodded and turned on his heel back to the elevator.

Less then 10 minutes later Abbey smiled in greeting as Erin and Nicky approached her desk.

Erin's brow was drawn and her eyes darted around the room, "Is everything okay? There was quite a bit of commotion downstairs."

"Everything is fine." She tried to assure, certain that Erin could see through her, especially when she followed up with, "However the Commissioner _is_ tied up right now."

Nicky looked up, gauging her Mother's reaction.

Erin gave a slow nod as her eyes narrowed, "Okay…"

"But I'm sure he'll just be a moment." Abbey slowly got up and opened the office door, "You can wait in his office."

Nicky darted past her, heading straight to the floor to ceiling window. "I love this view."

Abbey grinned, "So does your Grandfather."

Nicky looked back, beaming before returning her attention to the Lower Manhattan skyline.

Erin gave shake of her head, smiling to Abbey, "You're looking well. Getting close?"

Abbey nodded, cupping her stomach, "This will be my last week here."

"Exciting!" Erin grinned, "You ready?"

"All the shopping is done," She smirked, "But I don't think that's all that's involved in feeling 'ready'."

"It's not." Erin agreed, leaning against the arm of the sofa.

Abbey grimaced and sat down, feeling a familiar push, "This little one is certainly ready. Hasn't settled down in two days."

Erin smiled wistfully, "Some days I almost think I miss it; having her with me always."

Nicky bounced around the chair and landed on the sofa between the two women, "Only _some_ days?"

"Yes, and other days I am _incredibly_ grateful to be able to hand you over to your grandfather." Erin teased.

"Whatever." Nicky rolled her eyes, "Soon I'll be too old for Grampa to babysit and you will have to live with not knowing where I am every minute of the day."

Erin sighed, "See what you have to look forward to?"

Abbey grinned at the interplay. She glanced at her watch and cast about for a new subject. "I was sorry to hear you're not taking the DMO job."

Erin shrugged, "Maybe someday." She trailed off, discontinuing her thought as the Commissioner pushed open the door with a cheery greeting.

Abbey marveled, he seemed so genuinely upbeat that she hoped that everything had been resolved.

That hope was pretty quickly dashed when she left the room, immediately encountering Garrett on the other side of the door.

Taking one look at him, she sighed, "It's not over?"

His jaw was set and he shook his head.

He looked past her, "The girls are here?"

She nodded.

Garrett sighed, "That's good. He needed a break."

Abbey frowned but moved past him, "I told Nicky I'd find something for her to eat, I'm ordering Antonio's if you want anything."

"Which one?" Garret questioned.

She was halted from replying to Garrett by an onslaught of sensations as she took a step toward her desk.

First she felt dampness inside her thighs, then the ongoing pressure in her lower back intensified and shifted around, connecting with the cramp that had bothered her all day.

Garrett tilted his head, "Baker?"

She breathed in sharply and pressed against her side.

"Abbey?" Garrett stepped closer.

The cramp intensified and she couldn't focus on answering him.

He reached out a hand but hesitated, letting it hover. "What's wrong?"

She couldn't hold back the gasp as something shifted.

Garrett tossed aside all pretense of professional distance and his hand dropped to her back, and his other took her elbow. "Alright, come on, talk to me or I'm going to call Frank out here."

She waived him off as she focused on taking steady breaths. "I'm okay, I'm okay."

"You got a funny way of showing it." He glibbed, as he guided her to a chair.

She eagerly took the seat, the tension lightening from her midsection.

Garrett kept a hand on her arm until he was certain she was settled. He stepped back, eyes darting over her, "What are we dealing with here?"

She shifted in the chair, her hands trembling. "I think I'm in labor."

Garrett's eyebrows shot up, "Really?"

"I think it actually started this morning." She winced.

"Are you kidding me?!" He glared at her, "Why aren't you at the hospital?!"

She rolled her eyes, "Well I wasn't really sure until now."

"Okay, well, now it's pretty clear." He stepped closer again. "Do you want me to call an ambulance? Or Brian?"

She shook her head, "No."

"No what?" Garrett questioned.

"No any of it." She gave a nod of finality. "That was just the first real contraction; it could be hours before I have another. Brian went to Newsies with his sister and nephew, I'm not going to interrupt and I am not going to waste time in the hospital when I'm needed here."

Garrett shook his head, "Needed to do what?" He gestured back to the Commissioner's office, "The orders have been given, the boots are on the ground, there's nothing left to do right now but wait. That's what we've been doing for the past 4 hours!"

"For now." She rolled the chair closer to the desk, "Things change very quickly on days like today."

"Abbey, you're talking nonsense." Garrett crossed his arms.

She shook her head, refusing to look at him.

He sighed through his nose and pulled up the chair from Jim's desk, sitting to be eye level.

She ignored him, dialing the number of Antonio's Pizza and placing a quick order for Nicky and the Commissioner.

Garrett was still watching her as she hung up the phone. "Okay, now that you did your one outstanding assignment can you go to the hospital?"

Abbey shook her head vigorously. "No."

Garrett's eyes narrowed. "Baker. It's not like you to be irrational."

"I'm not being irrational." She shot back.

He tilted his head, waiting in silent rebuke.

Her breath hitched and before she knew it tears were gathering in her eyes. "I _can't,_ not yet."

"Abbey…" Garrett sighed, "Of _course_ you can. You and Brian have been prepping all year. You're ready."

She shook her head, "That's not it." Her chin quivered and she wiped at her eyes, "I can't. Not while this…" She gestured to the Commissioner's office, "is going on."

She locked eyes with Garrett, "I can't give birth until this is over. Pandemics effect infants the worst. I'm not due for another week. I will _not_ have this baby until the risk is gone."

He swallowed and bit his lower lip, "Abbey…" He pulled himself closer, looking her in the eyes, "I don't want to be alarmist, but there is always risk. Something always comes next." He sighed, "I've never had an infant of my own but I can tell you from experience with Sam, you can't let fear overrun you; when it comes to kids there's so much to be afraid of that it can be paralyzing if you let it."

Abbey blinked rapidly, hands on her stomach, "I...have to stay…" She gasped as her muscles involuntarily tightened again and her hands squeezed the arms of the chair as she tried to find her breath.

Garrett stood up, "That's two. I'm sorry but ready or not, it's time to go." He put his hands on his hips, "Your only choice is if I call an ambulance or we get an RMP to take you."

She clenched her teeth, unable to speak around the contraction.

"What's going on?" Jim entered, holding a bag from Hawaiian BBQ.

Garrett looked over his shoulder, "Oh, nothing special, Baker's just having her baby right here in the office."

Hearing the words, she began to cry in earnest.

Jim looked to Garrett in confusion.

"She says she won't go to the hospital until the threat is resolved." The DCPI explained flatly.

Jim put down the bag with a shrug, "Karen was in labor with Jeremy for 14 hours."

"Not the situation." Garrett explained. "She's had two contractions in less then 10 minutes."

"Ah." Jim nodded, "I'll drive."

She shook her head, "No…"

The two men looked at one another.

Jim frowned, "Where's the boss?"

Garrett nodded, "Good call, he's just inside. I'll go get him."

"No!" Abbey held up a hand, wiping her eyes with the other. "Please, don't tell him."

"I think he's going to find out." Garrett deadpanned.

"Come on." Jim put a hand under her elbow and picked up the barbecue with his other hand. "I got a pulled pork sandwich for you. You can eat it in the car."

Her resolve began to waiver as she looked up at the steadfast detective whom she would trust with her life.

"Go ahead." Garrett encouraged, "I'll take over for you here."

With a slow, deep breath she nodded and allowed Jim to help her up.

"This isn't how it was supposed to go." She muttered as they arrived in the parking garage.

"It never is." He agreed, guiding her into the SUV. "Been through it four times and we didn't get it right once."

While Jim drove she fired off a series of texts to Brian, hoping that the constant buzzing in his pocket would tell him that theater etiquette be damned, he needed to answer the phone.

It only took 22 messages for him to call her back.

 _"Now?!"_

"Now." She confirmed.

 _"Where are you? Do you need me to pick you up?"_

She shook her head, "No, Jim is driving me."

 _"In the PC-mobile?"_

"Yes." She confirmed.

 _"Lights and sirens?"_

"No, it's not that urgent."

 _"You're in labor? With our child?"_ He pushed.

"Yes…"

 _"Then, I think it absolutely is that urgent. You get Nucifero to flip on those lights!"_

She smiled fondly into the phone; her previous anxiety falling away at Brian's enthusiasm.

"We'll see."

His breath was audible over the line, _"Alright, I'm going to jump on the train and will meet you at the hospital."_

"NO!" She shouted before she could stop herself, before she remembered her fear was based on classified information.

 _"What…?"_

She took a deep breath, "Look, just do me a favor and take a taxi."

 _"Abs, do you know how much a taxi from Times Square will be?"_

"I know." She nodded, all her previous anxiety mounting again, "Just, please, today, at this moment, I need you to take a taxi."

 _"Okay, okay."_ Brian's voice was obscured over the line, _"I'm hailing one now. I'll see you there."_

"Thank you…" She whispered, hanging up the phone.

She kept her head down, looking at the phone in her lap.

She felt Jim glance over.

"I've never done that before." She tried to explain, "I've never let on about something I shouldn't."

Jim looked at her intently for a long moment. He turn to look straight ahead, "I called Karen. They're all at home working on projects for scouts; not sure what I would have done had she said they were taking the train into the city."

She looked at him, processing his admission, "Thank you."

He nodded ahead, "We're here."

* * *

Abbey yawned.

Despite 5 and a half hours of labor and barely 3 hours of slumber she just couldn't fall back asleep.

She strained to hear the news channel playing at the nurses station. She shook herself, consciously willing not to worry about what may be ongoing; she had no control over it and had the upmost faith in those who did.

Like it or not, for at least the next three months she was a civilian and her primary concern was the little boy cradled against her chest.

"How's he doing?" Brian asked as he popped back into the room.

She smiled, "Exactly the same as before." She looked down, "Perfect."

Brian's grin split his face. "Good." He glanced behind him, "So, um, how you feeling? Up to a visitor?"

She frowned, shifting up in the bed, tucking back her hair and checking that her sweater was buttoned. "I thought they weren't coming until after 10?"

Brian shook his head, "It's not your parents."

He leaned out the door and gestured to someone down the hall. A moment later Frank Reagan appeared in the doorway, a cautious smile lifting his weary eyes.

"Sir!" She straightened in place and stared at him in a mixture of surprise and relief.

"Hey there." He stepped closer, "I hope it's okay I'm stopping by, I was a little concerned when all of a sudden Garrett was at your desk."

"I'm sorry sir…"

He waived off her apology, "Baker, it's a joke." He paused, rethinking, "Unless you're trying to tell me Garrett is your full time replacement…then you better apologize."

She smiled, "I wouldn't do that to you, sir."

He nodded, "Good."

There was an quiet beat and the Commissioner rocked on his feet, "So, you going to introduce me?"

She took in a sharp breath and smiled broadly, "Of course." She shifted her son in her arms, "Commissioner Reagan, meet the newest resident of New York City, Michael Delucia."

She lifted her arms, "You want to hold him?"

The Commissioner hesitated a beat but a wistful need shone from his eyes and he nodded, accepting the small boy against his large frame.

Abbey leaned back in her bed watching her typically stoic boss soften reverently as he inspected the infant in his arms.

She frowned as she realized he was wearing the same clothes as yesterday. She narrowed her gaze, also noticing the beginnings of stubble on his chin.

"Sir?"

He looked back at her absently, "Hrm?"

She bit her lip, "You haven't been home yet?"

He dismissively returned his eyes to the baby, "Not the first all nighter, not the last."

She looked down, taking a breath in before looking back to him, "It's over?"

He nodded, keeping his attention on Michael, "Highway got them around 2100. We concluded wrap up couple hours ago. It's all done and handed off to the Feds."

Her chin quivered and she took a deep breath. "Thank you…"

He looked up, eyebrow arched.

She blinked back her tears, "Sorry, it's just…" she smiled at her son, "Thank you for making sure my son's birth day wasn't also a tragic one. Making sure he's safe today."

The Commissioner blinked back at her, looked away and took in a shaky breath.

"You know…Michael is the Patron Saint of Cops." The he again broke the silence, still focused on the baby.

"I actually didn't know that." Abbey looked at her son. "He's named after Brian's uncle and my first partner."

"Mickey..." He recalled, "Of course. Deserved namesakes."

He smiled again, wiggling his mustache at the infant. Abbey bit her lip, content to watch her son provide an innocent moment of respite to the typically beleaguered man whom she so respected.

Another minute and he sighed heavily, reluctantly returning the bundle to her arms.

He stepped back, watching the new mother and child for a moment. He breathed deeply through his nose before pulling two envelopes out of his jacket pocket. "I _was_ going to give this one to you and the other to mayor." He tightened his lips, "But I think I may have to change who gets what."

Abbey looked up to him, "What are they?"

"Well…" He gestured to the envelope he had indicated was for her, "This is a recipe for Frank Reagan's Famous Mother's Day Mashed Potatoes."

She smiled.

"But this one…" He hesitated, "Well, let's just say I've been reminded why I shouldn't make these kinds of decisions without you."

He handed the letter to her and she flicked it open with one hand;

 _"Mayor Poole,_

 _Though the evening's events have rendered our discussion extraneous, upon reflection, I believe it is indeed time for me to submit my resignation…"_

She dropped her hand to the mattress and looked up to him, wide eyed.

He shrugged, "Seemed like a good idea at the time."

"And now?" She prompted.

He took a deep breath, "And now…" He shrugged, eyes drifting down to her son, "Maybe I'm not so done as I thought."

He gestured to the letter with his chin, "You can do with that what you've done with the others."

She smiled, "And the mayor gets the recipe?"

"Too much?" He smirked.

"Nah." She shook her head, returning the smile.

"Okay." He nodded, "Well thank you for indulging my visit, I felt badly for missing the drama at the office."

"You had your hands full." She shrugged. "I'm touched you stopped by."

He leaned over, peaking in at Michael again, "I needed to start my recruitment early, can't risk the tax attorneys getting the inside edge." He flashed a grin to Brian.

He stepped back, hesitating, "You know, Detective, You are officially off duty, but that doesn't mean you can't call or swing by. Anytime."

She swallowed and blinked as she smiled her appreciation, "Thank you, Sir."

"Okay." He nodded, "I've got a one last stop to make before dinner; time is tight, otherwise I'd have made sure to pick up a congratulatory cigar for you."

She laughed, "I think that's quite alright, Sir." She held up the letter, "This was gift enough. Though, just to be clear, I _will_ be burning it."

He shrugged with an earnest smile. "As always, you know best. Happy Mother's Day, Detective."


	37. Recommencement

_A/N - Welcome to Season 3! This chapter is a week / a day prior to the start of the first episode of the season._

* * *

Abbey closed her eyes, leaning her head back and enjoying the warm sun. She opened her eyes, surprised to see that in the seconds they had been closed Michael had flipped from his back to his belly and was curiously grasping at the edge of the picnic blanket.

"Hey you! How'd you do that?" She smiled at her son who ignored her in favor of slapping at the grass.

She picked him up, "Did you roll over all by yourself?" She shook her head and nuzzled his nose, "Let's not tell Daddy about that yet." She whispered with a grin.

To both of their surprise, Brian had quickly revealed himself to be the more overly cautious parent. He had spent weeks worrying about the various conflicting studies he had found regarding ideal sleeping position for infants.

"If he knows you can roll over he will never get any sleep!" She smiled fondly, lightly tickling the little boys stomach.

Michael stared back at her with wide blue eyes; his first curled against his mouth.

She glanced at her watch and sighed, "Alright, Daddy should be done soon, how about we go find him?"

She held her son against her hip with natural ease as she folded the blanket back into the running stroller before nestling him into his seat. They left their corner of grass and was rounding the fountain in the center of the park when she heard a familiar voice call her name, "Detective Baker?"

She swiveled her head to see Jamie Reagan and Tony Renzulli lunching on one of the benches.

"Officer Reagan, Sergeant." She smiled and redirected the stroller in their direction, "I see the foot post is just as grueling as I remember it." She teased.

Rezulli made a face while Jamie smirked, "Yeah, well Sarge is real big on the 'Art of Doing Nothing'."

"Hey, I've told you; passive observing is an under appreciated skill." He gestured with his sandwich.

"Whatever." Jamie rolled his eyes, as he stood up, thumb tucked in to his duty belt. "Is this the famous Baker Baby?" He smiled at the stroller.

Abbey blushed and came around the side, pulling back the protective stroller shade, "Well, I don't know about how famous, he is, but yes, this is Michael."

Jamie took off his hat and leaned over the stroller, grinning at Michael. "Hey there little guy."

Renzulli half stood and looked around Jamie's shoulder, "Will ya look at that?" He nodded in Abbey's direction, "Cute kid, Detective."

"Really is." Jamie concurred with a nod and an affable smile.

She smiled back, taken aback by the easy confidence Jamie embodied.

She was used to the slightly uncomfortable young man who would come by his father's office. It had always seemed he carried a bit of tension about him in a way that set him apart from his family. Every Reagan from Henry through Nicky were polite enough but carried themselves with an internalized assurance that unconsciously implied an expected deference.

She had never seen Jamie own a room the way his father or siblings could. He just never seemed to fit in his own skin as comfortably as the other Reagans. She had assumed that was just part of his personality. She now realized that she had never seen him in his role as uniformed officer on the street.

She wasn't sure if it was just the universal effect of seeing an infant, or the guidance of his TO over the past two years, but here, in the middle of Washington Square Jamie carried himself with the same self-assured nature as the rest of his family.

She smiled unconsciously at her observation.

"What?" The object of her reflection scrunched his brow and tilted his head.

She shook and redirected her smile to Tony, "I'm sorry, I was just realizing I didn't congratulate you on your promotion Sergeant."

Jamie spun around, "Promotion? What promotion?"

"Oh…" Abbey winced as Renzulli huffed a reluctant sigh and put down his sandwich. "I'm sorry…"

He shook his head, "Don't worry about it. It's my fault for not telling him earlier."

"Tell me what Sarge? You take the Lieutenants exam without mentioning it?" Jamie's hands situated themselves on his hips.

Tony shook his head, "It ain't that kind of promotion. I'm just going from shift sergeant to squad supervisor."

"Well, that sounds like good news, congratulations." Jamie smiled, taking a sip from his soda, "Why wouldn't you mention something like that?"

" _Because_ , _"_ Tony drawled out, "It means I won't be doing regular patrols no more. We're going to need to get you a new partner."

"Oh." Jamie halted a beat before nodding a little too fast and shrugging a little too hard, "Well that's no big deal. I mean, we knew that was probably going to happen sooner then later, right?"

"Yeah, look, Kid, I'm sorry." Renzulli gestured with open palms, "I shoulda told ya sooner."

"Nah, don't worry about it. It's nothing." Jamie shrugged again, "I mean it's a long time coming." He paused then grinned widely, "You know this means we're going to have to do something at Cooper's before the rest of the squad knows you're now the boss."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Big boss in the house..." Tony shook his head. "I even get an office and everything now." He tilted his chin to Abbey, "Not as nice as your boss', but still."

She held up a hand and smiled, "My _boss_ may have a nice office but _my_ desk is in a hallway that I share with a half dozen others."

Tony smirked and Jamie turned back to her, "Yeah, how about that? You going back soon?"

She smiled, "You have some insider information on the subject?"

"Not really." Jamie smirked, "I can just confirm that most of the summer the PC has been grumpier than usual when the subject of the office comes up." He shrugged, "I'd be willing to gamble you've been missed."

"Well, that's not great." She grimaced.

"Better than the opposite." Tony volleyed back around a bite of his sandwich.

She swallowed a chuckle, "I guess so." She nodded, "But yes; I start again next week. I was just in this morning taking care of a couple things." She gestured to Tony, "That's how I heard about the promotion."

"Must be hard to go back." Jamie commented as he again looked into the stroller, waving and making a face at Michael.

She shrugged, already used to the insinuations behind the comment, "I've loved the last three months off, but I also love my job and I've missed it. It's hard feeling so disconnected when you've been in the middle of everything for so long."

"I can understand that." Jamie nodded. "When I was doing the work for OCCB last year I knew I was contributing important work but I always felt like I was missing out by not being on the street."

Tony smiled, "See, my work here is done; you've learned well. The street's where it's at."

"I don't know." Abbey shrugged with a grin, "I spent a few years on the street; still think I prefer heels to boots."

"Don't tell anyone, but so does Sarge." Jamie smirked and winked at her in such a way that she audibly gasped.

He pulled back and blinked in confusion, "It was just a joke…"

She shook her head, "No, I'm sorry, it was just…" she relaxed her shoulders and smiled warmly at him, "Just then, your mannerisms…you really reminded me of your brother."

He frowned, "Danny?"

"No," She shook her head, " _Joe._ "

Renzulli nodded, "Doesn't he though? I tell yeah, sometimes, there is no denying the relation."

Jamie frowned slightly and looked between the two, "Really?"

"Very much so." Abbey confirmed.

"You even walk like him." Tony nodded. "That kind of stroll you do when we're rounding the same block for the 10th time? All Joe."

Jamie's lips twitched into what Abbey saw as a more familiar self-conscious smile even as his shoulders pushed back and his chest puffed slightly, "Okay."

Tony grinned and slapped Jamie's shoulder, "That's alright."

Jamie exhaled and looked back to Abbey, "I don't want to hold you up. Just saw you passing by and wanted to say hi to the baby."

She nodded, "Oh no worries. Brian is in a consultation meeting at NYU so we were just killing time anyway. I'm glad to have run into you. Both." She nodded to Renzulli.

He just nodded back, finishing the last of his sandwich.

"I suppose you've got a patrol to return to." She smiled.

Tony shook his head as he swallowed, "That's one difference; Joe was always willing to let me take my time and eat like a civilized human. This one…" He gestured to Jamie as he wiped at his mouth, "This one's like a rabbit, always ready to jump out of his chair. Never lets me eat in peace."

Jamie rolled his eyes, "That's cause if I did we'd spend half our tour eating."

He smirked at Abbey and reached up to toggle his lapel mic, "12-Seargant to Central; show us off 10-63."

"See?" Tony slurped the last of his drink, "That's just rude."

"With the added bonus of being funny." Jamie shrugged, making a clean toss of his trash into the bin.

He leaned over the stroller again, "It was good to meet you Michael." He stood up and tipped his cap, "And good to see you Detective; glad to hear you're going back soon."

"Good to see you too." She smiled, "Have a safe rest of tour."

"Yes Ma'am." Jamie nodded.

"From your lips to God's ears." Tony agreed.

She began her way back to the Eastern edge of the park but paused to look back at the two patrolmen heading in the direction of the arch.

Tony was right; Jamie _did_ walk like his brother. A confident, casual stride that belied how alert he was.

She smiled.

Jamie's choice to forgo his Harvard Law degree and join the department had generated plenty of whispered speculation. Seeing his father's tension had contributed to Abbey making some assumptions of her own; that the decision was one made from a place of emotion and grief and that his pride would prevent him from changing course when he realized he made a bad call.

Seeing him today she realized how off the mark those assumptions were. Seeing him on the street was like seeing him for the first time. The law had been the wrong fit; even if his intellect and potential pushed against it, Jamie was a natural cop.

* * *

It also turned out that Jamie was right with his own speculations.

She arrived extra early on her first morning back to 1PP with the same fluttering sense of nerves she had her first day back in the Chief's office.

The difference was that on that day 8 years ago, no one had spoken to her when she entered the building. Today, not only did everyone she see stop to speak, they all had a variation on the same sentiment; "Thank goodness you're back."

Jerry from SWAT had jogged to catch up with her in the parking garage, "Are you back? Thank god!"

Michelle from IA stopped her at the security entrance, "It is so good to have you back. Really. _Really._ So, so, _so_ good you're back."

Even the Chief of Department let out a relieved breath when he passed her by the kitchenette, "You're back today? That's the best damn news I've had all summer."

It was hardly surprise then that by the time she got on the elevator Garrett glanced up and smiled, "You have no idea how much you've been missed."

"I'm starting to get that feeling." She sighed, "I'm a little nervous about the back story behind all the celebration."

Garrett shrugged before getting off one level before her, "Don't worry about that. Embrace the moment."

She rolled her eyes, nervous about what she would be walking into on the 14th floor.

Jim's desk was empty and she proceeded straight to her own. Everything appeared mostly the same. There were a few unfamiliar folders on her desk and the contents of the filing rack were in a slightly different order than she would have put them but for the most part, all seemed normal.

She logged in, briefly scanned the evening activity while she printed out the Commissioner's schedule and gathered the few briefing folders he'd need.

The elevator dinged and she moved to meet him as he entered the outer office, "Morning, sir."

His step faltered and his mustache twitched before he nodded, "Morning, Baker."

She handed over the paper and folders in her hands one at a time as they walked together to his office. "Your schedule for the day, and a briefing from the State Department regarding the potential Valverde operation, commendation recommendations for the returning IPL officers and a briefing from legal regarding potential new Stop-Question-& Frisk guidelines."

The Commissioner frowned, tossing his jacket on the chair, "This thing has gotten out of hand." He grouched, flipping through the last memo she handed him.

She refrained from commenting as she automatically picked up his jacket and shook it out as she hung it up.

She turned around to find him staring at her.

"Sir?" She tilted her head.

A small, genuine smile crossed his face, "Glad to have you back, Detective."

She blinked, taken aback by the unexpected validation, "It's good to be back, Sir."

He nodded and gestured to the schedule, "This apparently didn't get updated, the meeting with Councilman Vogel has been pushed to Wednesday."

She nodded, making the note in her pad, "Is there something else this afternoon?"

"Yep." He nodded, "Jack's first soccer game of the season. Family affair." He grinned with a diffident shrug.

She smiled, "That sounds good sir, when will you be leaving?"

He squinted, doing the math, "If I could get out by 3 that would be ideal, but if I have to miss the first half, then I'll miss the first half."

She nodded, "We'll see what we can do to get you out on time."

"Baker?" He called, halting her as she turned to exited. He pulled open his drawer and removed a small rectangle. He reached over the desk, holding it out to her.

"Sir?" She looked at him.

"Take it." He insisted.

Tucking her notepad under one arm she peeled back the wrapping paper revealing a framed picture of her and Michael.

She looked back at the Commissioner who had a self-satisfied smile on his face, "You're not the only one who can be sneaky with these kinds of things."

She looked over his shoulder to the now familiar pictures she had given him of Jamie and his father.

She bit her lip, "Thank you sir…very much for this."

"Of course you're welcome." He nodded.

"I'll check on the updated schedule." She smiled with a gesture to the door.

The Commissioner nodded and returned his attention to the memos on the desk. She spared a final grin as she exited the office and returned to her desk.

Setting her notepad down to her left and moving aside the folders to her right, she made just enough space to set down the frame.

Later, she would have to tease Brian for conspiring with her boss behind her back, but for now, she was very grateful he had.

With one last smile at the picture she turned to her computer and got back to work .


	38. Assurance

A/N This starts at the end of episode 3.1 and the second half is after episode 3.4

* * *

*bzz*

*bzz*

*bzz*

*bzz*

Abbey sighed and pushed her phone aside.

Every cop she had known since the academy always seemed to come out of the woodwork whenever there was a day like today. Since the Commissioner had apologized for the Greer shooting, people she hadn't spoken to in years suddenly felt privileged to ask for the inside scoop or share their opinions.

It's not that she didn't empathize, she too didn't quite understand why the PC felt it was necessary to broadcast that Officer Blake had screwed up. But she wasn't about to support the union's call for a vote of no-confidence; the Commissioner was right more often than he was wrong and she had seen firsthand how much personal responsibility he felt for everyone in the department.

Still, this was one of those times she really wondered what he was thinking, surely it wasn't a surprise that Blake had taken the public admission as a personal rebuke. If the young officer went through with taking his own life she could only imagine how the department would react.

*bzz*

With a huff she flipped her phone over and glanced at the top message.

 _~Is it true?_

She frowned at the message from JoAnne, the chair of the PBA's women's group. Was what true?

She flicked open the notifications menu and scrolled down the messages that had come in the last half hour.

 _~U on the PC's detail duty? U guys must have freaked!_

 _~Okay, that was badass - at least he cleans up after his mistakes_

 _~Srry 4 the angry rant earlier 2day; PC showed his tru colors_

 _~OOW_

Jim's short hand for "On Our Way" was the only one that made any sense to her.

She glanced at the clock, at least they'd be back soon and she'd be able to get some answers as to what had gone down to reignite the NYPD gossip chain.

*bzz*

A new text came in as the phone rang, she glanced at it while she picked up the desk phone.

 _~Martin's cousin in ESU says PC wrestled the gun out of Blake's hands...verify?_

" _What...?_ " She murmured in confusion.

"Uh, hello?" A hesitant Brooklyn accent came through the ear piece of the phone.

" _Oh!_ I'm sorry, Commissioner's office" She grimaced at her flub.

"Yeah, um, it's Sergeant Gormley, I wanted to give the PC an update?"

She took in a deep breath and spared a quick prayer for what she was about to hear from Danny's CO.

She forced her voice even and business-like, "I'm sorry Sergeant but the Commissioner is currently out of the office. I can take a message?"

"Yeah, yeah." The Sergeant sounded relieved at not having to speak to the PC and the tension tightened in Abbey's stomach, "Um just letting him know that the situation is resolved. The perpetrator is DOA and Detective Reagan is fine."

Abbey exhaled, "That is the first good news of the day Sergeant, I'll be happy to pass that along."

"Um hold on..." His voice became distant as she heard him speak to someone else, "No, he's not there, I think it's that Detective who works for him. Yeah, okay. What?...what are you talkin' about Reagan? Alright, fine, go ahead."

"Hey, Baker?" Danny's voice came over the line and Abbey smiled.

"Detective. Glad to hear your voice."

"Yeah, glad to be heard." He replied with an exhale. "Listen, I don't have my phone so tell my old man that I'm fine and he doesn't need to call me or anything but when he ignores you and calls me anyway he can call Jackie."

"Okay." Abbey nodded, "Does he have Curatola's cell number?"

"Yeah." Danny confirmed, "But really, tell him everything is okay. Tell him," There was a pause and Danny's voice went low, "Tell him Jack had Linda give me the rabbit's foot when this whole mess started."

"A rabbit's foot?" Abbey couldn't help but smirk.

"Yeah, don't spread it around, 'kay? Just...it'll give him a smile."

"I think hearing you're okay will be plenty reason to smile." She replied sagely.

"Yeah, yeah." Danny dismissed, "Just, tell him not to worry and I'll see him Sunday."

"Ooookay." Abbey rolled her eyes as Danny hung up the phone; telling the Commissioner not to worry about a member of his family was like trying to tell the sun not to rise.

It was only a few minutes later that the Commissioner returned to the office, stalking past her desk.

She stood and followed him into the office, waiting for him to sit and turn his attention to her.

He exhaled heavily and dropped his hand to the desk, "Yes?"

She smiled gently, "Sergeant Gormley called right before you got back."

His eyes rapidly scanned her face and he sighed in relief, relaxing into his chair as he correctly interpreted her body language. "It's over?" He surmised.

She nodded, "I spoke with Detective Reagan myself. He wanted to let you know not to worry, he's fine and that you don't need to check in on him. He doesn't have his phone for now anyway."

The Commissioner nodded repeatedly, looking down at his desk, "And Walker?"

"DOA." She confirmed evenly.

The Commissioner frowned and tapped on the desk with a closed fist, "Alright."

"He also wanted to let you know something about Linda gave him Jack's rabbit foot earlier today." She recalled.

True to the detective's prediction, the Commissioner smiled, "Did he now?" He shook his head and looked down, a look of fond reflection on his face.

"Sir?" She hesitated to interrupt.

He looked up, eyebrows raised.

She clenched her molars for a beat, "What happened with Officer Blake?"

The Commissioner tilted his head, "He was upset and wasn't thinking right. He'll be fine."

She gestured to her phone, "The rumor mill is pretty fired up about it."

"Of course it is." He rolled his eyes. "The Union getting ready to lecture me about blowing off Jack Gibson?"

She rose her eyebrows, "No sir..." She glanced back at the most recent texts to come in, "It's more along the lines that you pulled some sort of Super Cop move to get Blake out."

He leaned back with an amused grin, "Super Cop?"

"Ummmm..." She scrolled through the messages of people loooking to validate the rumors, "Everything from some psychological trickery to actually wrestling the gun out of his hands."

The Commissioner shook his head, "That's not fair to Officer Blake. Nothing of the sort happened. He was the one who decided to put down the gun and walk out."

"After you ignored the negotiator and went in to talk to him yourself?" Abbey pushed.

He sighed and looked over to her, "Better than doing nothing."

"Right…" She trailed off, recalling the tense moments of helplessness regarding Danny's kidnapping which filled the office prior to the PC responding to the Blake situation.

"What's got your gears turning, Detective?"

She blinked to focus on him, his face plainly calling out her momentary distraction.

She opened her mouth, then paused, bit her lip, then tried again to articulate what was fomenting, "Last week I was carrying Michael while doing laundry and accidentally hit the side of his head on the doorframe."

He tilted his head as she self-consciously wrapped her arms around herself, "It wasn't really that bad but it left a red mark and I couldn't stop thinking about it. I practically slept in the rocking chair that night petrified that I gave my 3 month old a concussion."

A small empathetic smile lifted Frank's mustache, "He was fine, I assume?"

She nodded, "Yes. But…now I'm just wondering how _you_ do it." She glanced away, thinking about standing in the same spot and informing him that his son was being held hostage at gun point. "I have always hated having to pass on bad news about your family, but I just…" She looked back to him, "Don't know how you can keep on with business as normal."

His eyes tightened and after a long quiet moment he shrugged, "The truth of it is that I _don't_."

He looked at her, "I'd have figured out of anyone _, you'd_ have picked up on that."

Blinking, she thought back to the times of curt silence, sudden absences, unusual initiatives, coarse words, sleeplessness and even the occasional defeatist attitude. She smirked remembering his intense refusal to meet with Reverend Potter after Jamie and Renzulli were assaulted.

"You got it." He picked up on her analysis, "I'm not such a master of discipline as I pretend." He commented ruefully. "It doesn't get easier; if anything, as they get older, and you have less control, it only gets harder."

"Well that's not an encouraging thought." She frowned.

"Isn't parenthood grand?" He smiled.

* * *

Abbey was still thinking about the Commissioner's comments a few weeks later as she leaned against the bar at the Police Sports League reception.

It was the first time that she and Brian were leaving Michael for a whole evening. Her parents were babysitting and she trusted them completely but she couldn't dismiss the worry coiled in the back of her mind and the restlessness that came with it. Brian had been unable to contain his own anxiety so she had encouraged him to go ahead and call them to check in.

in the meantime, she glanced around the crowded bar, looking for a friendly face.

The PSL was one of Henry Reagan's pet projects and their fundraising receptions were usually one of the few gatherings that the Commissioner would allow himself to attend and enjoy.

However, tonight he had finally found a loophole to shove ValVerde out of the country and had wasted no time in heading down to the hospital to give the dictator his walking papers.

Jim was with the PC, Garrett was back at 1 PP waiting on word as to how to handle the media, and the 1PP folks she usually socialized with were not much interested in the PSL. She would have grabbed a moment with Henry but he was busy glad-handing big donors in the other room and she wasn't about to insert herself there.

"Man, I don't know…cushy mid-town gig or not, I don't think I could last long partnered with a Reagan."

The familiar name caught her attention and she glanced over to a group of young men a few stools down at the bar.

"First of all," the dark haired guy in the middle put down his beer, "It's not like I had a choice. Secondly, the guy's actually alright."

Abbey turned her attention ahead, but she kept them in the corner of her eye as she shamelessly eavesdropped.

"You're just saying that 'cause now you got the Commish as a hook!" Teased the 3rd officer.

"Not really." Retorted the man Abbey assumed to be Vinny Cruz, "I haven't even met the guy yet."

"Well that's lame." Said his buddy on the left, "You get saddled with golden boy you should at least get something out of it."

"I'm telling you, Reagan is alright…" He smirked, "Honestly, the worst part of him is his damn law degree. Most the time the guy is true blue but having a lawyer in the squad car can sometimes put a real cramp on my style."

The guy on the right chuckled, "Maybe that's why you got paired with him; after what happened at the 3-5 the brass decided you need a chaperone!"

"Hey!" Vinny elbowed his friend, "I will have you know that I am a model cop."

The three snickered into their drinks. After a pause the guy on the left shook his head, "You seriously haven't met the PC yet?"

"Nope." Vinny shrugged, "I was at the same scene as him once but it's not like we interacted."

"Wait, when was this? Was your new partner with you?" The guy on the right asked.

"Yeah," Vinny nodded, "But they didn't even look at each other. It was kind of crazy."

Left frowned, "Maybe they don't like one another?"

Vinny shook his head, "Nah man. I found out quick, rule number one with Jamie Reagan; don't talk trash about his old man _._ " He took a long drink, "He's a real cool character most the time but I talked some smack about the PC _once_ and Jamie was ready to throw down. Freaking _loyal_ when it comes to family."

"I can respect that." Right nodded, "As long as the same thing goes for his partner."

"I think it does." Vinny nodded, "Our house sarge was his TO and it's the same thing; if I have a complaint about Renzulli it better be legit."

"Wait a minute…" Left held up a hand, "The kid had the _Sergeant_ as his training officer? That's cushy."

Vinny took a sip of his beer, "I think that's kinda the thing; the Reagans claim to never call in or give any favors to one another but that doesn't stop others from going the extra mile without being asked."

He shrugged, "No one ever wants the kid to have anything negative to say about them so things like...the car is always cleaned out, no matter who had it last shift, and there's always a volunteer if he's looking to swap shifts." He grinned into his drink, "I'm pretty certain he's not even aware of how different he has it."

Left chuckled, "That's awesome."

"I don't know." Vinny frowned, "It's a mixed bag. Some guys in the house will shut up when Reagan walks into the room just like they would if IA walked in. They dude is cut out of the mix without even knowing it.

"Would be worth it for a clean RMP every shift." Right leaned in.

"Yeah. But he has to feel when people change what they're talking about when he walks into a room." Left shot back, "Your brothers in blue are a big part of the job; I wouldn't want to feel like I'm missing out on that just because someone in my family is a big shot."

Vinny nodded, "And _that_ is what I see as my calling in this partnership; no _chaperone_ bull…I'm there to raise the guy's coolness quotient. Anyone who rides with Vinny is going to learn the finer, _funner_ aspects of wearing the uniform… _if you know what I mean_."

The three officers chuckled and clinked glasses as Abbey restrained the urge to roll her eyes.

"If it isn't my favorite detective…"

She sighed and closed her eyes a beat as she heard the unfortunately familiar voice.

She plastered a fake grin on her face and turned to greet the Suffolk County Deputy Chief, "Chief DeLuca."

"P _lease_ , how many times do I have to say, call me Sal…" He smiled sweetly at her, reaching out a hand.

She picked up her pint instead.

He ignored the brush off and looked around, "So who was foolish enough to leave you alone at the bar?"

"You mean my _husband_?" She took a sip of her beer and glanced to the door, "Not that it's at all relevant; as a trained NYPD detective I can take care of myself."

"I don't doubt that…" Sal leered.

"Don't you have anyone who is missing you right now?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sure." He smirked, "But I'd blow them all off for one night with you."

Her jaw slacked open.

He stepped closer, "I'm staying in the city tonight; will show you just how _hard_ I'm willing to work for you."

"Ohh that's a **_big_** 90x." She shook her head, "And you'd best take a step back; I don't feel like getting arrested tonight."

"Arrested?" He tilted his head.

"For assaulting a police officer." She clarified, putting down her drink, freeing her hands.

He puckered his lips, "That's cold."

He stepped back, "But I get it, I get it. You can't be seen stepping out….gotta behave in front of all these coworkers." He fired a couple finger gun moves in her direction as he began to move back to his table, "But I'm going to keep working, I'll earn your affection yet; Sal and Abbey; it's destiny. You'll see."

"Mhrm." She rolled her eyes and turned back to the bar.

"Hey, props."

She swiveled to see Vinny raising a glass in her direction.

She furrowed her brow, "Thanks…?"

Vinny shrugged, "I'm just saying, that guy was a real clown."

"Unfortunately I'm used to him." She sighed picking up her drink.

"No doubt." Vinny nodded, "But just so you know, we would have had your back had something gone down." He gestured to his pals, "That kind of crap ain't right."

She smiled, "Well, thank you for that."

"No problem." He grinned, extending a hand, "Vinny Cruz."

She accepted it, "Abbey Baker."

He nodded, "You involved with the PSL, Baker?"

She shrugged, "I played softball and basketball in the league a while back."

"Not now?" He pressed.

She smiled, "Husband, new baby, crazy hours."

"I hear ya, I hear ya." He gestured to his pals. "We play on one of the soccer teams in Central Park. It's a blast."

She nodded, "I do miss it." She shrugged, "May be when the baby is a little older."

The door opened, sending in a gust of wind and she turned to see if it was Brian returning.

It was but he was followed closely by the PC, Chief Hines and Jim.

"Oh crap…" Someone behind Abbey muttered as someone else across the bar called out a tense "'TEN HUT!"

Abbey sighed and slowly pushed away from the bar, waiting for the inevitable response from the Commissioner.

"At ease, at ease, please." He dismissed with an uncomfortable wave, "We're all off duty here."

Abbey grinned and relaxed back against the bar, having not quite made it to the attention position.

The Commissioner approached with a raised eyebrow, "You didn't come to attention Detective." he deadpanned but the corner of his lip twitched.

She raised her eyebrows, given the situation the last few days his apparent good mood was refreshing. She maintained a straight face, "I utilized the deductive reasoning skills honed by my NYPD Detective Training to anticipate your dismissal…Sir."

Hines chuckled as he stepped around them to catch the bartender's eye.

"Very well." Frank relaxed into a genuine smile and Abbey rolled her eyes at the teasing.

"Look who I found loitering outside." Frank gestured to Brian who had managed to squeeze around some others and settle in at Abbey's side.

"Yes," She acknowledged, "He went out to call and check-in on Michael, but he was gone so long I was starting to worry he actually went home without me." She glanced at Brian, "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." He nodded, "I just talked to your mom and then she put Mikey on the phone."

Frank glanced at her and then back to Brian, "Isn't your son only 4 months old?"

Brian shrugged sheepishly, "It's our first time away this long."

"I get it." Frank grinned.

"I assume everything went okay?" Abbey redirected the conversation.

"Yep." Frank nodded, gratefully accepting a glass of amber liquid from the chief and pausing, "Feels good to take out the trash."

"Here, here." Hines nodded, raising his own glass before tipping it back.

"Congratulations." She smiled.

"Thanks." He grinned, looking around the room, "We miss anything exciting?"

She shook her head, "Not really."

Her eyes widened a fraction as she suddenly remembered with whom she had previously been speaking and she smirked, "It's been a quiet evening, I was just speaking with Officer Cruz here about the PSL teams."

She gestured to the young man who had been next to her and Frank's attention followed.

"Officer Cruz!" He clearly recognized his son's partner immediately, "You prefer, Vinny, right?"

Abbey contained her grin as the young man's previous bravado escaped him and he instinctively straightened, half standing before awkwardly sitting back down. His two friends subtly and quickly shifted away.

"Uh, yes, Sir. Vinny is fine sir." He answered stiltedly with a noticeable crack as he said his own name.

Frank held out a hand and Vinny accepted it in a brief shake.

"Glad to meet; it's been too long." Frank smiled.

"Yes, Sir." Vinny nodded, "I mean, it's all good…I mean...good to meet you too Sir."

Frank raised an eyebrow and glanced back at Abbey for a beat.

He tilted his head back to the young officer, "So you're on one of the PSL teams?"

"Uh, yes, Sir. Midtown Soccer." Vinny nodded.

Frank shook his head, "My grandson plays soccer, pretty good at it too. I just can't seem to get into watching the professional yet."

Vinny finally gave a small smile, "That's what Jamie says too, Sir."

Frank smiled, "I'm sure. Everything working out besides your disagreement in sports? You keeping him on his toes?"

"You bet, Sir." Vinny nodded rapidly, "We've got one another's backs."

"Good to hear." Frank acknowledged even as he glanced away, giving a wave to an older Lieutenant who walked past.

He looked back to Vinny, "Well, I should probably make the rounds but we'll have to have you to the house sometime; you can try and make the case for soccer before we draft you into one of the infamous Reagan football games."

Vinny swallowed, "Yes, Sir."

Frank glanced back to Abbey, "Have you seen our former Commissioner?"

She grinned and gestured to the door leading to the back room, "Yes, Sir. He's in the other room."

Frank grimaced, "Don't suppose I could just pretend I was never here…"

"I don't think you'll be able to get away with it." She shook her head.

"Alright." He took a deep drink and looked back to Vinny, "Did you have a chance to meet Jamie's grandfather yet?"

"Oh…uh…no Sir…." Vinny stammered, "I…uh…he's been real busy."

Frank sighed, "I'm sure he has been." He shook his head, "Alright, well, it was good to meet you officer. And I'm serious about coming by the house sometime; remind that partner of yours how these things work."

"Yes, Sir." Vinny nodded.

"Alright." Frank repeated again shaking Vinny's hand. He then gestured to the bartender as he walked away, "Stanley, Officer Cruz's next drink; on me."

The bartender saluted with a pint glass and Vinny blinked, opening his mouth but the PC was already gone before he could offer his thanks.

He glanced around for his missing friends, "You're cowards." He accused.

They stepped closer again, grinning, "Sir, yes, Sir…" they mimicked.

Vinny shook his head and looked back to Baker, "And that was mean, after I said I'd have your back against that guy."

"What guy?" Brian asked.

She sighed and pet her husband's arm, "DeLuca; that guy from Hauppauge who I told you about last year?"

Brian nodded, eyes scanning the crowd. She shook her head and looked back to Vinny innocently, "What? I thought it was a nice thing to introduce you to the PC."

He narrowed his eyes at her, "Sure it was…" He deflated "What's your deal anyway? You know Danny or something?"

"I work on the 14th floor." She explained.

Vinny nodded slowly, understanding, "I see. So, what? You make it your business to know everyone Jamie works with?"

She shrugged and smiled broadly, "It's the Commissioner's office; we know everything."


	39. Tempest

_A/N - OKAY so because of production timing etc the show never really addressed Hurricane Sandy; but as someone from the North East I can tell you it was a BIG deal up here, especially in NYC and put a crazy burden on our first responders for about a week. I wanted to put that in this world but of course 2012 is also the only time that BB shows Halloween which falls right in the middle of this timeline. So a little stretch of imagination; a lot of neighborhoods postponed Halloween to the next weekend because otherwise it would be in the middle of an unsafe black out. So this chapter takes place about a week before "Nightmares" and when they show Trick-Or-Treating in that episode just assume it was actually early November instead of Oct 31. THANK YOU - I'm Still Amazed By Those Of You Who Have Followed Along This Whole Crazy Journey!_

* * *

As the lights flickered for the umpteenth time Abbey rolled her head and sighed in the direction of the ceiling.

"It's just going to keep getting worse until we refuel the generator." Assistant Chief Harrison commented from the far side of the conference table.

She frowned and reached across the cluttered workspace to pick up the phone and dial Support Services, "Hey Charley, it's Baker. Any word on the generator yet?"

"Uh, we sent a car over to the EMS station on South Street to see if they left any fuel canisters when they bugged out, but we're not even sure if they'll be able to get into the building."

"Alright." She huffed, "Keep us posted, we can't loose power again."

Deputy Inspector Hughes smiled as she put down the phone without waiting for Charley's reply, " _Looket Baker,_ laying down the law..."

She rolled her eyes at the head of the Disorder Control Unit and sat back in front of her binder of hospital schematics. She didn't have the time or patience for Charley's excuses or Hughes' teasing.

It had been 4 days since the state of emergency was declared, 3 days since she had last been home and 36 hours since the hurricane had begun to hit the city full force. There were still 700 patients that needed to be moved from Bellevue and the lights going out was simply not an obstacle she was willing to accept. Evacuating 2,000 patients from hospitals around the city was just another in a long line of logistical nightmares that somehow seemed to fall on NYPD's shoulders, or, more accurately, the Commissioner's shoulders.

The flooding had begun before the storm even came ashore and by Sunday he was distributing tasks to those closest to him, in some cases ignoring rank in favor of trust. The department was so tightly stretched that no one seemed to mind when he handed the hospital logistics to her, despite being the only detective in a room full of brass.

She appreciated that she could count on the pragmatism of the other folks around the table to not be bent out of shape about it. Over the years the Commissioner had built a capable team of deputy commissioners and bureau chiefs. Even still, 5 days of round the clock preparations and storm response was enough for everyone to toe edge of their patience.

Those who had been working together for a few years were able to rely on their established bonds and patterns but the tensions started to mount as the well-intentioned heads of FEMA, Red Cross and National Guard had arrived and disrupted the balanced chains of command.

She glanced dimly at the stash of coffee grounds under the beverage cart in the corner and tried to anticipate how much time they had left before they ran out. She was fairly certain someone was going to need to acquire more or the remaining civility in the building would abruptly cease to exist.

"Where we at?" Her calculations were interrupted by the sudden appearance of the PC.

In contrast with his usual imposing 3-piece suit he wore a soaked NYPD jacket and khakis along with a pair of boots and a duty belt equipped with a radio, flashlight and a 9mm.

"Sir, I spent some time with Chief Rivard and Deputy Commissioner Sabin." Hughes spoke first, "We're agreed that it should be clear for the stock exchange to open tomorrow morning but there's still too much to lift the evacuation order for Zone A; the fire last night just consumed too many resources; put us back at least another half a day."

The Commissioner nodded, "Hope the folks at the stock exchange live locally." He gestured over his shoulder, "I just came from the Holland Tunnel; Transit estimates another week before that's fully functional; similar timeline for Midtown and Carey."

He removed his NYPD cap and ran a hand through his hair, spraying droplets against the glass door as he spoke, "Most of the bridges are clear and we should be able to get the buses running tonight or tomorrow, but even with the help of the Army Corps of Engineers it will likely be months before we have full subway service online."

Everyone in the room exchanged glances, the timeline was significantly longer than anticipated.

"Any decision from the Mayor regarding the marathon?" Harrison asked.

The Commissioner frowned, "Not yet. I'm pushing. Just tell patrol to maintain their schedule." He moved around the table as he spoke, "Baker." He gestured for her to follow him into his small, private office off the side of the conference room.

He waited until she shut the door, "How's everyone doing?" He asked as he shed his wet jacket and poked through the duffel bag on his chair.

"Okay. We're making progress which is helping folks feel better." She sat down, "I mean, the folks who dealt with last night's fire are definitely tired but..."

"Everyone's tired." He finished for her.

"Exactly." She confirmed.

He breathed and dug his fingers into his eyes, "I saw FDNY Commissioner Rourke at OEM; he was onsite all night with his guys. 6 alarms. They took a hell of a beating."

"I can imagine." Abbey commiserated.

He unloaded his radio, flashlight and gun onto the desk, "Right now, the Red Cross is doing it's job at the evac centers and FEMA is starting to make the rounds on Staten Island and should be through most of Brooklyn and Queens by the end of tomorrow."

"That's good news." She nodded.

"Agreed." The Commissioner edged around the desk with a dry shirt and pants from his bag, "And the Mayor has come to his senses; school will not be in session through at least Friday."

He indicated the door to the private bathroom, "Excuse me a minute."

She settled back into the chair, taking the opportunity to close her eyes and enjoy the rare stillness in the small office.

The reprieve was cut short when the ringing phone broke the quiet moment. She sat up and glared at the offending device before picking up the handset, "Commissioner's office."

"Baker? It's Jamie. Is my Dad available?"

She smiled, relieved that it wasn't someone with more bad news, "Hold on one second."

She looked over her shoulder to the closed door, "Commissioner? It's Officer Reagan on the phone."

"Put it on speaker." He ordered through the door.

She clicked the button, "Go ahead Sir."

"Jamie? Can you hear me?"

"Uh...yeah Dad, where are you?"

"Don't worry about it." The Commissioner shot back, "What's up?"

"Dad..." Jamie's voice dropped, "There's some bad stuff going on out here..."

"Don't I know it." He replied, emerging from the bathroom barefoot, in a dry pair of jeans and t-shirt, pulling a faded blue fleece over his head.

"Yeah, Dad, but no one is taking care of these people..." Jamie continued.

"Jameson, I'm going to stop you right there." He ordered as he maneuvered, trying not to get his paper work wet with drops from the clothes in his hand. "I am not going over the heads of the cops on the scene."

"That's not what I'm asking you to do…" Jamie ground out.

"No?" The Commissioner rose his eyebrows at the phone, "Walks like it. Talks like it. If this is something specific you have a chain of command to follow. Talk to your supervisors."

"I tried, Dad." Jamie's tone was short. "But the bosses aren't exactly in the mood for listening; everyone is just tired and wet and cranky."

"Yeah well, I'm tired and wet and cranky too." Frank snapped.

Jamie sighed into the phone and Frank made eye contact with Abbey for a beat before exhaling and dropping in to his chair, "Are you on duty?"

"No." Came the sullen reply, "We just got off."

"Where you headed?" Frank asked genially as he bent to put on his socks and boots.

"I was thinking Erin's" Jamie answered.

"You may want a full sit-rep before you go ahead with that plan." Frank smirked at the phone, "Your sister, niece, as well as both your nephews _and_ grandfather are already there."

"Oh...full house." Jamie replied. "Tight quarters."

"I bet it is." Frank nodded. He frowned, "Why don't you come here?"

"To your office?" Jamie questioned.

"Yeah." Frank shrugged, "It's warm and dry. We have coffee and food. You can relax on the couch, even watch tv if we got the cable fixed." He glanced at Abbey who shook her head. "Well, maybe not tv but we do have internet and…" He glanced at his duffel bag, "I have about a six month supply of dry socks if you need some."

"Socks?" Jamie's question echoed Abbey's own reaction.

Frank smirked, "It's a Marine thing." His humor sobered as quickly as it had appeared, "Come on over. I promise we'll find you a quiet and warm place to relax and, maybe, you can tell me about some of the things you've been seeing; son to Dad, not officer to PC."

"Yeah…okay." Jamie agreed, "Can I bring Vinny? His place doesn't have power and his family is all displaced."

"Of course." Frank nodded. "See you when you get here." He reached over and clicked off the phone.

He glanced at Abbey.

"I'm sure it's a mess on the beat." She observed empathetically.

"I have no doubt." Frank agreed, "But my son is not exactly known for being appreciative of the big picture."

Abbey shrugged, "A few hours around here and it will be kind of hard to avoid."

* * *

Nearly 45 minutes later Abbey caught site of Jamie and Vinny through the glass wall of the conference room. The two officers were hesitating outside of the Commissioner's door, glancing around at the bustling office.

"Sir?" She pulled the Commissioner's attention from his conversation with Inspector Fogarty of the Harbor Unit.

He followed her eyes and gave an abbreviated gesture, "Can you…?"

She nodded and moved around the crowded room stepping out the door to greet the men standing in front of her desk.

"Officers?"

Jamie turned, face serious but Vinny immediately cracked a grin, "Officer Baker, we meet again."

"Nice to see you Officer Cruz." She passed through them and opened the office door as Jamie looked quizzically at his partner.

"You two know each other?"

"Oh yeah." Vinny nodded, "The detective here hung me out to dry."

Abbey smiled sweetly, "I just introduced him to the Commissioner at the PSL racket last month."

"Ohhhh." Jamie nodded slowly, smiling. "Nice."

"Nice? What do you mean saying it like that?" Vinny shrugged his shoulders and pulled on the lapels of his jacket, "It was nothing, I played it cool."

Abbey rolled her eyes, "Yes, very cool. You two can come on in."

Jamie followed and stuck his hands in his front pockets, glancing at the empty desk. Vinny hesitated just inside the door, his eyes scanning the room's contents. He nodded, "This is a _nice_ office."

"Where's Dad?" Jamie looked to Baker.

She pointed to the conference room, "Next door with everyone." She gestured to where a pillow and a couple of blankets were piled at the edge of the sofa, "The past few days different folks have been bunking in here off and on."

"Nicer than the bunk room at the house." Vinny elbowed Jamie and sat in one of the armchairs.

"Which is why I'm glad you both came over." The Commissioner's voice interrupted from behind Abbey.

She grinned as Vinny shot up again.

"At ease." The Commissioner nodded to the young man, eyes moving to his son. "How was it getting down here?"

Jamie shrugged, "Wasn't the _worst_ city drive I've ever done…"

Frank nodded, "Well you made it. Hungry?" He questioned as he reached into a bottom drawer and pulled out a loaf of bread, peanut butter and some jelly.

Vinny's eyebrows climbed up but he smiled, "That actually looks amazing, Sir."

Frank smirked and glanced to Abbey, "How about you detective? Hungry?"

She glanced at the white bread, fatty peanut butter, and sugary jelly and thought about the hours of exercise and healthy eating efforts she had practiced since giving birth…and then her stomach audibly growled.

She felt her cheeks blush and the Commissioner smiled, "I guess that answers that." He gestured to the sofa and chairs, "Everyone, take a seat."

"PB&J, Dad?", Jamie asked as he settled next to him on the sofa.

"You guys don't appreciate this." Frank nodded, pulling out some slices and beginning to slather on the peanut butter, "But back when _I_ was walking a post in the 12th there was very little regulation regarding shift lengths and back to back assignments or any of that." He gestured to the food on the coffee table, "You could keep all this in your locker without it going bad, it was cheap and easy. Have a sandwich on the way to muster, stick an extra in your jacket... a couple of sandwiches could keep you going all tour."

"I think it still sounds like a good idea, even without a double tour." Vinny commented, eyeing the sandwiches, "The best days were when Mom would have peanut butter and plantains waiting for us when we got home from school."

Jamie smiled, "When I was up at Harvard some kids would make peanut butter sandwiches but they'd put this marshmallow fluff on them instead of jelly."

Frank made a face, " _That_ doesn't sound appealing." He finished one sandwich and cut it in half, "Here, you two start." He handed the halves to Vinny and Jamie who each took one gratefully.

As he chewed his sandwich Jamie watched his father make more. He swallowed his bite, "What's up with the 9mil, Dad? Where's your revolver?"

Frank shrugged, "Revolver only has 6 shots."

Jamie glanced to Abbey and then back to his Dad, "You planning on needing _any_ shots?"

"Not planning on it no." Frank nodded, finishing a few more sandwiches and handing a half to Abbey before taking one for himself, "But when there's massive power outages you never know what you might be walking into and I like being prepared."

"Don't you have a security detail, Sir?" Vinny questioned around a bite of his sandwich.

Frank looked back at him for a beat, "You've always got your partner watching your back, right? And you'd take a bullet for one another?"

Vinny nodded slowly, "Yes, Sir…"

"Does that mean you'd feel comfortable not having your own weapon?" The Commissioner asked.

"Not at all." Vinny answered quickly and honestly.

The Commissioner glanced to Abbey, "It's not a matter of trust," He looked back to Vinny, "It's just a matter of being prepared. It's how you were trained."

"Yes, Sir." Vinny nodded, "I understand, I wouldn't want my partner to get shot because I wasn't prepared to take care of myself." He glanced at his partner who returned eye contact.

Frank smiled at the silent interaction between the two officers. He glanced at his watch and then back to Abbey, "What time is the call?"

"2100" She replied, "But the governor won't be on the line until 5 after."

He nodded and relaxed back against the arm of the sofa, "Okay Jamie, why don't you tell me about what had you bothered earlier."

Jamie swallowed the bite he was chewing and put down the piece in his hand, "It's a couple of things."

He glanced to Vinny, "We were down in Murray Hill and a lot of the rent controlled buildings with elevators have elderly people living on the upper floors."

Frank tilted his head, "Okay…so?"

"So…" Jamie gestured, "The power has been out. The elevators don't work and these people haven't been able to evacuate. There are at least a few hundred handicap people unable to leave their apartments. Until the power comes back they are stuck in the dark and in the cold."

Frank ran a hand across his brow, "Okay…" He inhaled, "Unfortunately we don't have the man power to go door to door and see if there is anyone who needs help getting down the stairs…"

"But…" Jamie started to interject until Frank held up a hand.

"However…" He explained, "This call I have in a little bit, I can mention it to the Mayor and see if we can mobilize some of the civilian groups and their neighbor awareness. Get the people to help take care of one another."

Jamie frowned but he nodded.

Frank shrugged, "And if anyone really needs help, hopefully they'll call 911 or their local precinct and we can dispatch officers in that case but we just can't go looking for more problems to solve."

"Alright." Jamie shrugged.

"What was the other thing?" Frank asked.

Jamie shook his head, "Nah, you're not going to…"

"Let me be the judge of that." Frank cut him off, "What's up?"

Jamie glanced to Vinny, swallowed and then looked back up, "Some people aren't ever going to call the cops, even if they need us."

Frank rocked back, "Well there isn't a whole lot I can do about that, now can I? If we don't know there is a problem we can't try to fix it."

"But we _do_ know about the problem." Jamie leaned forward.

Frank sighed knowingly, "Where?"

"The Bitterman Houses." Jamie replied.

Frank made a face, "Unfortunately, that's nothing new."

"But there is new stuff." Jamie edged up to the edge of the sofa, "Not only is that one of the places where people are stuck on the top floors but with the power out the gangs that have set up shop there are taking full advantage." He started counting off on his fingers, "We're talking syphoning gas from cars, drug deals out in the open, breaking and entering, muggings."

He pointed to Vinny, "We were there yesterday evening and judging from the shouts and screams I'm certain there are more assaults and probably rapes happening but we couldn't find out where the noise was coming from and with those hallways being dark it wasn't safe for us to spend too much time looking."

"Jamie…" Frank sighed.

"Dad, I know what you're going to say, that people need to meet us part way but they won't until we get in there and show them we care and we're there to help." Jamie gestured, looking wide eyed at his father.

"You think I don't care?" Frank tilted his head, eyes tight.

"That's not what I said." Jamie tried to clarify, "But a little initiative at a time when they're struggling could go a long way."

"Oh, I know they're struggling." Frank nodded, "You know how I know? Because _the whole city_ is struggling."

He shook his head and leaned back, "Over a million families are without power across the city; including my house, your brother's house and I suspect your own apartment. We have families being airlifted from their rooftops in Staten Island. Down by the Morganthal's in Brighton Beach and Red Hook homes have been completely destroyed. Up in Queens 110 houses went up in flames at 1 o'clock this morning."

He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, "I have to deal with the tanker that came ashore this morning, the World Trade Center site being flooded, as well as Battery Park and both Liberty and Ellis Island. The EPA is calling about a massive raw sewage spill that occurred as a result of all of this which means we could be facing a crunch on clean water. The harbor is still closed so no new fuel or supplies are getting in and despite spending the better part of 3 days setting up sand bags, all but one of our traffic tunnels still managed to flood along with 7 subway tunnels that are so screwed up that we probably won't be able to restore service to the world's busiest financial district until May; _if_ we're lucky."

"Dad…" Jamie tried to interrupt but Frank ignored him, counting off his own list on his fingers,

"FDNY had to evac 4 of their EMS stations which was really inconvenient when we also had about 1700 hospital patients to relocate, including criminals at Bellvue. Keep in mind that is _before_ the generator blew at NYU."

He stood up and gestured out the window, "And just to make things more interesting, floods shorted out the communication systems down here so in addition to alternating between loosing power and running on a 25 year old generator, we spent hours with the only communication able to be done from this building was through sat links and radios. So we had a disconnected police force, and barely managed onslaught of everyone who is coming to 'help', like the feds with their fuel trucks which naturally are just causing a string of fights in the gas lines meaning we can add assaults to the looting happening across the city. Not to mention that this is all on top of the standard business of ongoing investigations and programs."

He sat back down and pushed his fingers into his eyes, "I have a city of 8.5 million people across 470 square miles and only 33,000 cops and two hands to keep everything from falling into a 3rd world country."

He dragged his hands down his face and let them fall into his lap, "So I hear what you're saying but I just can't be in the business of helping people who won't help themselves right now. If a place is, by your own admission, too dangerous for cops to go, and I need every pair of hands I can hold on to…"

He shrugged sadly and leaned back, "Fixing Bitterman and places like it is just going to have to wait until we get through this."

Vinny's eyes were wide and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, glancing back at Abbey. She kept her eyes forward and bit her lip. It was unusual for the Commissioner unleash like that, especially if Garrett wasn't around but knowing the weight he carried she was grateful to see him release even a little bit.

Jamie's jaw hardened and he looked down and then back up. Opening his mouth he hesitated a beat to be sure his father was done speaking.

"I'm sorry." He finally said, quietly.

"No…" Frank sighed, deflating. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say all that. You have a valid concern."

"But I was being too shortsighted." Jamie acknowledged. "I just see my 40 blocks in the 8 hour snippets with the 30 guys I work with." He shrugged, "I know you have to worry about the whole city. I get that you have limited resources. I do."

Frank smiled and rested a hand on Jamie's shoulder, "Let's get through this, put our city back together then we'll talk about Bitterman. Maybe we can have dinner with Don Kent?"

Jamie nodded, "That'd be good."

Frank exhaled and picked up another piece of sandwich, "You know what else would be good?" He answered without waiting for a reply, "If the mayor would finally cancel the marathon." He gestured vaguely to the door, "We've got a couple hundred officers scheduled to work it. If we can get them on other duties instead we might even have hope of being relatively normal before Election Day."

Abbey picked up a glass of water, "Well Sir, they haven't cancelled the marathon but I've been told that the New York First Responders Foundation Halloween Dinner has been postponed to a week from Thursday." She worked to keep a straight face.

Jamie smirked, "Halloween fundraiser? Does that mean costume party?"

"No." "Yes." Frank and Abbey replied at the same time.

Jamie grinned, "What are you going to wear?"

Frank glared at Abbey before looking back to Jamie, "I was thinking the same costume I wore when I was taking you Trick-or-Treating."

Jamie rolled his eyes, "An NYPD detective is not a costume, Dad."

"It is too." Frank retorted, "A costume is dressing up as something you're not. I was a Captain and Deputy Inspector those years and I'm Commissioner now."

"With all due respect, Sir, that sounds like toeing an awfully thin line to me." Vinny stepped in.

The Commissioner mock glared at him until Jamie nodded, "Vinny's right Dad. It's cheating. You wouldn't want to be a cheater for the First Responder Foundation, would you?"

Abbey grinned, "Any suggestions on a more appropriate costume?"

Jamie's eyes bounced around the room as he thought, smiling a few moments later. "Got it. You should go as The Commissioner."

Abbey and Vinny frowned but Frank narrowed his eyes, "And how is that less cheating than a detective?"

"I didn't say any ol' Commissioner. I meant _THE_ Commissioner." Jamie pointed to the picture of Teddy Roosevelt as he spoke.

Frank's shoulder's dropped but Abbey beamed, "That. Is. Perfect." She glanced at the picture and then back to her boss, "Wouldn't be too hard either, just a different suit, some costume glasses, part your hair, and brush your mustache."

He frowned, "I hate parting my hair."

Abbey couldn't help but chuckle, "I'm going to tell Garrett. He'll help make this happen."

Frank stood and headed for the door, "I want no part of this. I'm going back to work."

Abbey rolled her eyes but stood as well, following his lead.

Jamie reached out, pausing her, "If you tell my sister she can help with the outfit."

Frank huffed and disappeared into the conference room but Abbey smiled. A few sandwiches, some venting and good natured ribbing was exactly what had been needed to reboot after the last few days.

"Really great idea, Jamie, hopefully he'll play along." She gestured to the blankets and water pitcher, "Make yourselves comfortable; no one else should be coming in here and if you need anything we'll be right next door."

"Thanks Detective." The two officers replied in unison.

The last thing she heard as she stepped through the door was Vinny smirking at his partner, "Is this your graduation picture Reagan?!"


	40. Cerberus

_A/N Takes place after 3.10 "Father's & Sons"_

* * *

The office was quiet.

Not just quiet 'for a Monday' but quiet for _any_ day.

Abbey assumed most people were giving themselves the day off after working through the weekend in pursuit of the highway sniper. She too had debated not coming in after not seeing Brian and Michael most of the weekend. She almost stayed home that morning, especially considering that the Commissioner himself was out, tending to his own family.

However, the problem with major crises was that they overrode the priority of existing tasks meaning that when the crisis was over there was an inevitable backlog of more mundane projects to be addressed. Abbey figured with a quiet day and no interruptions she would be able to power through everything, get caught up and still be home at a reasonable hour.

So she was grateful for the quiet, despite it being a little uncomfortable; even the desks of Jim and the other detail officers were empty. She swallowed her nervous instinct and turned her attention to her work, first pulling up the Commissioner's email and forwarding to herself what he didn't need. She updated his calendar and then clicked over to her own inbox and prioritized her day.

A couple hours later she had settled in to the unusually quiet day. She had turned the thermostat up, taken off her shoes and even face-timed with Brian and Michael for a couple of minutes. By mid-morning she had WBLS turned up on the radio and was snacking on some nuts while working on the report the commissioner had requested evaluating the NYPD / FBI Financial Institution Crimes Task Force.

She was so engrossed by the music and making calculations from numbers on the screen that she didn't hear the elevator's chime.

"So, _this_ is what happens when I'm not here."

The sudden sound of the Commissioner's voice had her jumping in her chair and disrupting her keyboard.

"Sir!" She stuttered and scrambled to turn off the radio and stand. "I…wasn't expecting you." As she spoke her eyes narrowed at Jim who was unsuccessfully smothering a grin as he followed the Commissioner and sat at his own desk.

The Commissioner did not bother to try and hide his own amusement; he raised his eyebrows and made a point of looking around the empty office, "It looks as if _no one_ was expecting much today."

She glanced at the earn-time reports she had yet to deliver to the personnel management office, "Most of the staff who worked this weekend gave notice that they'd be taking some time today." She gestured to a few desks in the rear alcove, "There should be a few folks coming in this afternoon."

The Commissioner dismissed her explanation with small shake of his head, "It's okay. I expected as much." He nodded, "The team was top notch this weekend."

"Yes sir…" She nodded, the initial shock fading and quickly being replaced by curiosity.

She hadn't expected him in this morning; not because of the long weekend, but for the same reason she hadn't been surprised to see him leave immediately after the mayor had visited yesterday afternoon.

She looked him over; he looked tired, more so than usual. He had changed clothes and shaved but his eyes were red rimmed and heavy; with fatigue or melancholy, she wasn't sure.

She hesitated, "Sir? How's your grandson?"

A tight smile lifted his mustache and creased his eyes, "He woke up just before 6 this morning."

She felt the release of a tension that she hadn't even been aware she was holding. She smiled, "That's fantastic! He's going to be okay?"

"Looks like it." He gave a short shrug, "The doctor wants to do some tests to make sure…but he's okay in all the ways that matter."

A barely perceptible tremor hitched his smile, "Little kids are resilient, bounce back pretty well, you know?"

"So I'm discovering." She concurred, thinking of Michael, newly mobile and crawling into furniture and walls.

She looked around her workspace, "Sir, I really didn't expect you today; I cleared your schedule." She looked back to him, "If you want to go back to be with your family you won't be leaving anything hanging."

His smile faded and he shook his head, a fisted hand tapping restlessly against his thigh, "No, no...I'm here. I won't stay late tonight, but there's work to be done."

"Okay…" She frowned but decided against questioning further. She looked around her desk and pulled a file from the bottom of a pile, "Yesterday you had mentioned wanting to write letters to the victim's families. Here are the contacts and addresses."

He accepted the folder somberly.

"I'll also pull the CompStat reports for the weekend and the updated larceny numbers." She finished.

He nodded, "Good. That will be a good start. Thank you, Detective."

She watched him disappear into his office before looking over to Jim in wordless wonder. The other detective just shrugged before moving to readjust the thermostat.

* * *

A half hour later she snapped the last relevant document into its folder, stacked it with the others and carried them to the Commissioner's office, entering without a knock.

"Si…" Her greeting froze on her lips.

The Commissioner's elbows were braced on the desk on either side of the open folder she had given him. There was a blank notepad on top of the file and the pen hung from his hands, pushed under his chin, his face turned in the direction of the window. His lips were drawn into a frown and the corner of his eye was damp.

Upon hearing her enter he quickly pressed his fingers to his eyes in an attempt at a subtle wipe and turned to face her with a sheepish smile, "Sorry…"

She frowned, unsure what he was apologizing for and shook her head, "No, I'm sorry. I didn't knock."

He waived away her apology with a twitch of his fingers. He avoided eye contact, instead glancing around his desk as his hands roved and fidgeted with the pad of paper and pen.

She pulled the folders in her hands close to her chest and stepped up to the chairs, head tilted.

"Sir?" She asked softly, loading the short word with concern.

He blinked up at her, eyebrows raised as if he were unaware of his own aberrant behavior but after a sliver of a moment he deflated; shoulders dropping and the pretense falling from his face.

He picked up the pen and pulled in his bottom lip, looking down at the file in front of him and exhaling through his nose before he swallowed and looked back up to Abbey.

"I don't know what to write." He admitted, gesturing to the document next to the blank notepad.

Abbey looked down and took her own steadying breath.

The Commissioner took her pause as an opportunity to elaborate, "Angela Mitchell; the second victim? She has a fiancé, a brother a mother and a father." He shook his head, "I don't know what to say to them."

Abbey frowned. In the 9 years since she had worked for him, Frank Reagan had written hundreds of condolence letters. It was never an enjoyable task but it was relatively rote; families of officers, notable public figures, high profile victims and the occasional lesser-noticed case that struck a chord with him personally. There were familiar lines of sympathy, a few personalized comments and a promise to pray for the family. She was not aware of any previous instance when he had struggled.

Of course, in no previous instance had he spent the night prior at his grandson's hospital bedside.

She manipulated herself into one of the chairs across from the desk and bit the inside of her cheek, "What do you usually say in letters like these?"

He shrugged listlessly, "Some trite words."

She arched her brow. "Even if that were true…" She replied slowly, waiting for his attention to drag back to her, "You've never had an issue writing a condolence note before."

"May be I should have." He snorted, looking down again. He picked up the paper that had Angela Mitchell's information on it. "What do I say to her parents?" He questioned, then, quieter and to himself, "She was the same age as Danny."

She looked up sharply at the muttered observation. She rolled her lips and refrained from sighing. "Sir…Maybe you shouldn't do these today."

He put down the paper and looked at her.

She shrugged one shoulder, "You really _do_ have the day free. Perhaps it would be better if you were with your family today."

"I don't think so, Detective." He answered curtly as he looked down and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

She stared dumbly at the sudden change in tone.

All weekend he had been sneaking time for phone calls with Linda and Danny and Erin and Jamie and Henry. The last 72 hours his mind had clearly been with his family in Brooklyn even while they dealt with tracking the sniper across the city. She could not understand the sudden desire to be here instead of there.

She remained silent, literally unable to think of an appropriate response, but she did not move from her seat.

After a heavy, silent minute the commissioner sighed.

"I'm sorry." He looked up, his eyes reading her face. "I know you're trying to help."

She felt herself stutter, "I just…" She frowned, "It's not really any of my business but I'm not understanding the problem, Sir."

He smiled in self-deprecation, "I'm pretty sure I made it your business when I elected to grumble at you."

"You're allowed to vent." She offered neutrally.

"Well it's still not exactly fair to you." He returned. Then, smiling slightly more, "Especially when it seemed like you were having such a pleasant morning before I showed up."

The familiar heat of blush crept up the back of her neck again and she closed her eyes.

He smiled, "I never would have pegged you as an R&B fan."

She made a face, "It's good motivational background music."

"If you say so." He shrugged, with a hint of a grin.

"Sir…" She redirected.

"I know." He breathed out, tapping again on the empty pad.

She straightened her shoulders and tried a more direct approach, "I'm sure you must still be, on some level, distracted with concern for Sean; having to write an emotionally vested letter isn't going to be easy with all that's gone on the last few days."

He sighed and gave a small shake of his head. "That's not the problem."

She furrowed her brow.

He looked at her, "Don't get me wrong; of course, there will be concern for Sean until he's back home, wrestling with his brother again." He smiled fondly, prompting Abbey to remember the time she walked in seeing the Commissioner playing with his grandsons and she smiled as well.

He shrugged, "But I meant it when I said he's okay in all the ways that matter. The doctors had some things to say about potential memory or coordination issues, and not that those aren't important…" he gestured with empty hands, "But he woke up remembering everyone and talking and smiling and upset he missed chinese food for Sunday dinner. Even if he can't hit a baseball or remember his multiplication tables my grandson is going to be just _fine_ in my book."

She was stilled by the honest devotion in his declaration. Yet the tension remained and she felt it in her core. She swallowed, "So, then, what _is_ bothering you?"

The small smile immediately fell from his face. She felt as if she could literally see him thinking as his eyes unfocused and his agitated fingers began to absently rub the desktop.

He pursed his lips and pulled off his glasses, closing them and holding them in his fist.

He took a deep breath and leaned back, eyes suddenly refocusing and pinning her with one of his watchful gazes.

"You ever break a bone? An arm or leg?" He asked, seemingly as a non-sequitur.

She blinked, taken aback, "Umm, yes Sir. More than once actually."

"And it hurt?" He gestured with his glasses.

"Of course." She straightened in her chair, resting her hands on the folders in her lap.

He took an uneven breath and tilted his head, "And you know that it's very likely that at some point that Michael will break a bone."

She barely succeeded in containing the gasp that thought induced and she felt her jaw drop.

Frank winced apologetically for a quiet beat and continued, "You'll know exactly how much it hurts and your parental empathy will kick in and when you see those tears on that little boy's face it will hurt you almost as much as it hurts him."

He smiled comfortingly, "But you'll give him a kiss, take him to the doctor, get him patched up. Maybe you'll buy him some ice cream on the way home and you'll draw fun pictures on his cast and in 6 weeks he'll be good as new."

Abbey swallowed, unable to process the unexpected wave of emotion that his allegory generated.

"It's not fun to think about." He acknowledged sympathetically, "But it's a strong likelihood and when it happens, it won't…" He paused, casting for the right word, "Shock you. Put you back on your heels. It's a normal part of raising kids and you'll be prepared to deal with it."

She softened, an uncomfortable feeling in her gut telling her where he was going with this and she was suddenly uncertain she really wanted to hear it.

" _My…._ " He started but had to stop, taking a couple of shaky breaths and blinking.

He swallowed and started again, "Loosing a son was the greatest pain I ever experienced." He brought his hand up to cover the tremble in his chin, "And I wasn't prepared to watch my son have to face that same kind of pain."

He shook his head, no longer really talking to Abbey, "If Sean didn't wake up there is nothing I could have done to make it better. No kiss, no cast, no ice cream. 6 weeks, 6 months, 6 years…there is nothing I could have done for Danny and Linda."

He looked back to Abbey with moist eyes and a stilted shrug, "You can never be prepared to bury your own child…but the possibility of watching your child bury his child…and know the pain he's feeling and not be able to protect him from it..." He bit his lip, "It just shouldn't happen."

Abbey blinked, clasping her hands tightly in her lap to still the shaking. "It rattled you." She summarized plainly.

"Like no terrorist threat or crime wave ever could." He confirmed, the small, sad smile returning to his face. "I see a lot of myself in Danny. I just never wanted to see this part of myself in him."

She took a deep breath, trying to silence the voice in her head that demanded she run home and hold onto Michael until she was certain nothing could ever harm him.

The Commissioner took his own deep breath, slowly coming back into his stalwart self.

"Sorry you asked?" He tilted his head.

"Honestly?" She looked back, "A little bit."

His smile grew but she remained straight faced, "But I'm really glad you told me."

His smile froze and he looked at her from across the desk before breaking eye contact, "Thank you."

"Likewise." She nodded.

He cleared his throat and straightened in his chair, "Alright. I'm here, you're here, let's see if we can be productive, shall we?"

She smiled, happy to return to more neutral topics, "You want to talk about CompStat or Larceny first?"

"Whichever one has the least bad news." He prompted.

"CompStat it is." She replied.

He sighed, "Does that mean larceny is still heading in the wrong direction?"

She looked at him with mild vexation, "So then you want larceny first…" She handed over the folder.

The Commissioner had just put on his glasses and flipped open the report when the door opened without a knock.

"Doesn't anybody work around here anymore?"

She smiled at the familiar voice of Henry Reagan and turned to see him standing in the doorway holding a brown lunch bag.

"Hello, Detective." He greeted.

"Hello, Sir." She returned, restraining her amusement.

It had been quite some time since Henry had stopped by for lunch with his son making the timing of this appearance questionable if not downright suspicious. She glanced back for the Commissioner's reaction. He spared her an irked glance before directing his attention to his father.

"What are you doing here Pop?"

Henry frowned, "I never needed a reason before."

"But you have one." Frank accused.

"I'm told I missed you at the hospital this morning." The older man shrugged, "You were out the door pretty early."

Frank looked back to the folder on the desk, "You were too. I swung by the house for nearly an hour before I came in to the city. We must have just passed each other."

"Mhrm." Henry dismissed, "Well come on, I brought turkey."

Frank sighed, "Detective Baker and I are working at the moment."

"Don't blow me off, Francis." Henry put his hands on his hips.

Frank sighed, "I'm _not._ " He gestured to the folders, "I spent 3 days distracted from the day to day business of this office. There are things that need to be tended to."

"You also spent 3 days hiding from your family. There are things that need to be tended to there too, you know." Henry snapped back.

Abbey froze and glanced to judge how unobtrusively she could exit the room. Unfortunately Henry was blocking the door. She just bit her lip and hoped the Commissioner would dismiss her before he responded to his father's accusation.

"I was _not_ hiding." He rolled his eyes as Abbey consciously forced herself not to sigh. "We had a threat on the streets!"

"I seem to recall something about an ongoing threat when I was in the hospital last year; you were able to tear yourself away then." Henry leveled.

"Which should tell you how serious _this_ was." Frank gestured. "Danny was even working. Linda practically pushed him back to the case. Did you read _him_ the riot act?"

"No." Henry replied, "But guess where he is now?"

"Of course he's at the hospital; not only is he Sean's father, he's also _not_ the Commissioner. He caught the guy and submitted his 5s; he's done." Frank sighed, "Pop, I was there last night, I'm going to go back and check in again tonight. I don't know what you're upset about. I would think of anyone you'd understand."

Henry sighed, "I _do_ understand. More than you give me credit." He walked over to the coffee table, putting the lunch bag down, "And I'm not upset."

Frank rolled his eyes, "Yeah, right." He looked to Abbey for validation. She gave him a wane smile and shifted in her chair.

"I'm not angry, Francis." Henry insisted, "Just concerned."

Frank looked back at his father tensely, "Well don't be." He looked back to his paperwork, "I'm not the one who spent the last few days in a coma."

Henry sighed audibly but didn't volley back.

Frank looked back up with a small frown, "How'd you even get here, Pop?"

"Don't start in again on the driving, Francis." Henry waived dismissively.

Frank held up his hands in innocence, "I didn't say a thing about driving. I just asked how you came into town."

"Mhrm." Henry miffed, "I took a ride in with Jamie on his way to the precinct."

Frank sighed and rubbed at the side of his nose, "And how were you planning on getting back to Brooklyn?"

Henry tapped his chin theatrically, "Well, now that you mention it, I don't seem to have a ride back."

Abbey tried and failed to stifle a giggle and Frank leveled her with an unamused glare. She straightened even as the corners of her lips kept tipping up.

Henry continued his act, "Of course normally I'd just get on the subway but I hear everything this end of the island is still out of commission. And taxis are just _so_ expensive to take between boroughs."

Frank shook his head, "You've got a new hip. I hear the bridge is a nice walk."

"In the middle of January?" Henry replied, "At my age? Pretty sure that would count as elder abuse."

Frank pulled off his glasses and dropped them on the desk. "Was this your grand plan? To strand yourself here and hope that a turkey sandwich would distract me enough to drop everything and drive you back? You know I could just call an RMP to give you a lift, right?"

Henry stepped closer and braced his hands on the back of the other visitor's chair, "Why are you being so stubborn?"

"I'm not being stubborn." Frank defended, "Just annoyed."

"Look, Francis, " Henry frowned, "If you think I don't know what's really going on with you then you're dead wrong. Trust me, I know exactly what you're feeling."

Frank looked away, an abbreviated shake of his head.

"Don't dismiss me." Henry warned. "Son, I'm here to tell you that now we're out of the woods, the best thing you could do right now is spend time with Danny and Linda and the boys."

Frank looked up at his father, doubt crossing his face.

"Not just for yourself." Henry expanded, "For them too. They won't understand. Danny will say he does, and maybe he will, logically. But he's shaken badly. He needs all the grounding he can get; and that means _you_."

Abbey could see the moment that Henry's words had won.

Frank rubbed a hand across his chin and he took a deep breath with a minute nod. "Okay." He muttered barely audibly.

He looked across his desk and flipped the folders closed, stacking them in front of him. He held out his hand to Abbey, "I'll take the CompStat report with me also."

She nodded and handed it over.

He gave her a resigned smile, "Guess I should have just listened to you from the beginning."

She returned the smile but kept quiet even as Henry grinned, "Was she trying to kick you out too?" He shook his head and smiled at Abbey, "I thought I taught him to listen to the women in his life."

Frank just rolled his eyes, "Just don't forget the sandwich." He chastised his father as he dropped the reports into his briefcase. He hesitated as his hand hovered over the blank notepad and the folder with the victim's family contact information. With a frown he picked them up and placed them in the briefcase as well.

"Okay." He said to himself, then looked to Abbey, "I _will_ be back in for a normal day tomorrow." He glanced to Henry who did not react. "Call me if anything comes up and we'll hit the ground running in the morning."

"Yes Sir." She nodded, following them out of the office.

"Don't stay too long." He advised.

"Thank you, I won't." She smiled, returning to her desk.

"You know, we should probably pick something up for the boys on our way over. Toys or something." She could hear Frank comment to his father as they continued to the elevator.

"We can stop by the big store on Flatbrush, it's not far out of the way." Henry suggested happily.

"And Flowers for Linda?" Frank questioned.

"I already looked at the hospital gift shop," Henry advised, "They have some decent arrangements."

"What about Danny?" Frank asked as the elevator arrived.

"Danny doesn't need anything." Henry replied, "His Dad being there will be more than enough."

There was a long pause but as the doors closed Abbey could clearly hear Frank's sincere, "Thanks, Pop."

And the office was quiet again.

She sat at her desk, sorting through the last 40 minutes and trying to get a handle on everything.

Her eyes landed on the photo of Michael tucked next to her computer monitor. She glanced up to her still full inbox.

With a sigh and a smile she clicked off the computer and grabbed her bag shooting off a quick text to Brian as she waited for the elevator, " _Quiet day after a long weekend; I'm coming home to my boys._ "


	41. Fidelity

_A/N - This takes place within and after episode 3.12 "Framed". Looking back, that episode caps off a series of episodes where some really cruddy stuff happens to members of the family so in a line there is a "blink & you'll miss it" reference to episodes 3.9, 3.10, 3.11 as well as 3.12. I also wanted to play a little bit with some side characters in the front half of the chapter. Hope you enjoy, Thank you again for reading!_

* * *

"Yeah, but they're saying he's turned to dealing drugs because of money issues. I'm just saying that I _know_ how much money the boss brings home and I can't believe that any Reagan would resort to selling drugs before they sought help from their old man."

"Really though? Everyone knows what a hard ass he is. Can you really see Frank Reagan just tossing money at his kid's problems?"

Abbey could hear the conversation before she entered the 1PP kitchen; she shot Jim an eye roll to which he replied with a shrug as they turned the corner through the doorway. Of course, as soon as they did, the conversation abruptly stopped.

Deciding to have a little fun she smiled sweetly through the awkward silence, "Hi Keith, Hi Arnie. What's got you two here so late?"

"Uhh." Keith Howell from Personnel stammered while Arnie Poulin from Community Affairs coughed into his hand.

"I...I've got fiscal year stuff I was prepping for the accountants." Keith finally came up with.

Arnie shrugged, "And I'm just pestering him to finish up and come join me for a drink."

Abbey nodded as she pulled her yogurt from the fridge and Jim poured a couple cups of coffee.

"Well, we certainly know what it's like getting stuck later than you intended." She nodded to Jim and they both settled at the same table as the two gossips, "In fact, it looks like we're settling in for the long haul tonight." She peeled open her yogurt and smiled broadly, "Do you mind if we join you?"

Keith blinked and swallowed, "Um actually, I was _just_ heading back to my desk; lot's to do!"

Arnie nodded, "Yeah, um okay then, I'll be at Donohue's if you end up getting out." He directed at Keith before smiling uneasily at Abbey and Jim, "Sorry, I'd stick around but I need to meet up with some folks…"

"No problem. Catch you around later." She smiled again, waving until they were out the door.

The smile immediately dropped from her face.

"That was good." Jim nodded sedately, "Funny."

She glanced at him with incredulity, "Yes, I can see you find it hilarious from the way you're cracking up."

He simply raised an eyebrow but did not break his straight face.

She smiled and shook her head, "That kind of gossip just annoys me, you know?" she dug around in her yogurt, "I mean, out 'there' a lot of folks may have questions and doubts but in _this_ building I don't think it's too much to expect a little loyalty."

"Yep." Jim sipped on his coffee.

She put down her spoon and looked him over, "Are you not worked up over this or are you just internalizing?"

Jim shrugged, "Not worth getting worked up over something I can't do anything about."

"But you don't like the gossip, right?" She pushed.

He took another sip of his coffee, "There has always been talk about the Reagan's behind their backs. I just turn it off. Always have."

Abbey narrowed her eyes, tapping her spoon mindlessly against the edge of her cup, "You know, I know you volunteered for the detail back when the Commissioner first came on the job but in all this time you never said exactly why."

Jim nodded but said nothing.

Abbey pinned him with a glare and was formulating how to go about asking again when Garrett entered with a flourish.

"GOOD. I was looking for you." He dropped his portfolio to the table with a slam and dropped into the chair vacated by Howell.

"Which one?" Abbey glanced to Jim, pleased he also seemed confused by the nervous energy radiating off of the DCPI.

"Both of you." Garrett scooted up in the hard plastic chair and looked around the otherwise empty room, "I assume we're all on the same page regarding a certain major case detective…"

Abbey nodded, Jim remained impassive but leaned slightly forward, clearly ready to listen.

Garrett took a breath, "I was just in with the boss. He can't touch this. He can't be within a mile of touching this." He glanced around again, "But he's impatient to have this dealt with as opposed to leaving the detective in question hanging while the normal process plays out."

"Are you just making assumptions?" Abbey frowned

"I quote," Garrett leaned in " _'I wish I could work this like the other side does; like a gangster who can tap into a whole orbit to take back control._ '"

Abbey raised her eyebrows, impressed with the brazen honesty Garrett had pulled from the PC.

"What do you have?" Jim spoke up for the first time.

"Not much." Garrett slid a paper over to the detectives, "I did a little digging into the case and there are some odd inconsistencies but nothing really clear."

"Inconsistencies where? In the facts?" Abbey clarified.

"With the investigation _itself_." Garrett gestured to the page.

"Damnit." Abbey muttered.

Since the whole incident with the Blue Templar had gone down, keeping tabs on IAB had been unofficially part of Abbey's purview. She and Chief Franklin kept in touch and she had been through the personnel files of every officer as they cycled in and out. She kept a weekly tally of who was being investigated by whom for what and what the outcome was and compiled a monthly report for the PC. Every few months she reviewed them all to keep an eye for any patterns.

Aside from one guy who had a habit of investigating officers who dated his ex-girlfriend, things had been quiet for the last year and a half. She had even looked closely over Elwood when he was the investigator last year on the friendly fire incident. He was a good guy.

She glanced over the sheet from Garrett. The demand for Danny's off duty weapon and the questioning without a union rep were a little extreme but not suspicious. She came to last line on the document which Garrett had underlined; the computer access log indicated that someone at IAB had researched Detective Reagan's pension loan history _before_ the detective was arrested.

Maybe Elwood had _been_ a good guy. She was going to be awfully frustrated if this turned into another IA cluster.

"Okay," She sat back and glanced at the two men, "I have history with IA, I can make some inquiries without raising too many questions." She offered.

Jim had pulled out his notepad and was jotting down a few items. "I'll find out where the drugs came from."

"How you going to do that?" Garrett asked.

Jim didn't answer, just stood up and looked to Abbey as he tossed his coffee cup, "Let me know when you have a name."

"Okay then…" Garrett frowned as Jim left the room, "I have a few sources that can help figure out who made the initial anonymous tip." He stood up, collecting his papers, "Let me know if you find anything."

* * *

Ever since she was a kid, Abbey felt drawn to the NYPD. Her mother assumed she would outgrow it, citing that she was too much of a 'girly-girl' to be able to adapt to the utilitarian atmosphere of police life. He mother's concern wasn't unwarranted but it hadn't ever held Abbey back and she embraced the life, duty boots and all for the first few years on the job.

However, after 8 years working on the upper floors of 1 PP she reflected how grateful she was to have landed in her current position each time she returned to the unromantic reality of a squad room.

She ignored the eyes that followed the sound of her heels as she made her way through the chaotic and cluttered squad of the 5-4. She maintained her focus as she knocked on the door of the Sergeant's office.

The blinds were closed but she could hear the shuffling on the other side prior to the grimy door being yanked open just wide enough for a balding man to poke his head out.

His clear frustration morphed into confusion as he looked her over, "'Lo?"

She smiled impassively at the abrupt greeting, "Sergeant Gormley?"

"Yeah." He made no move.

"I'm Detective Baker."

He blinked and straightened, slipping out the door and shutting it behind him. "Baker?" He looked around, eyes stalling on an empty desk. "From the Commissioner's office?" He lowered his voice.

She nodded, "Yes, but I'm not here on his behalf."

"Uh-huh…" The sergeant nodded skeptically. "Well, uh…it's nice to put a face to the voice but things are a little upended around here; what can I do for you?"

She squared her shoulders and recalled the excuse she had come up with on the way over, "I am helping the personnel office tidy up some indiscrepancies for their end of the fiscal year reports. I need to look at a few files."

Gormley nodded slowly, "Uh-huh. I see." He gestured to his office, "Come on in."

He opened the door and as soon as she followed him inside she understood why the blinds were closed; stacks of personnel files were spread across his desk and the chairs.

"I think I understand what you're looking for." He smirked, "And it doesn't have to do with any fiscal year reports." He thumbed back in the direction of the empty desk on the other side of the door, "Reagan always says good cops make bad liars; you must be an awfully good cop because you're a terrible liar."

She winced sheepishly, "Okay. But I swear the PC really does not know I'm looking into this."

"I believe you." Sid nodded, showing his palms, "You're here the same reason I've spent half the morning going through the files of everyone in the squad."

She smiled and felt her shoulders relax, "So you think Danny's innocent too?"

"No doubt in my mind _what. so. ever_." The sergeant nodded vehemently.

She looked over the piles of personnel reports, "But I take it you haven't found anything yet."

"Not a thing." He shook his head, frowning.

Abbey crossed her arms and looked over Danny's CO. His frustration with the situation was worn plainly on his face and her gut told her she could trust him.

"There have been some irreconcilable details with IAB's handling of the case." She watched Sid's eyebrows rise in surprise. "Does anyone in the squad have a history that intersects them with Captain Elwood and whatever Detective Reagan was working on?"

The Sergeant was already flipping through the folders on the desk, pulling out three.

"There's Megan Scott, but she's been on maternity leave for the last month and Will Nguyen but Reagan saved his life a few weeks ago during a shoot out." He opened the third folder, "Then there's Reagan's partner, Kate Lansing. She's new and worked for IAB just last summer."

Abbey blinked, "Well _that_ hits the right notes."

Sid shook his head, "I don't think so though. She was at her desk finishing paperwork from when Reagan left for the DA's office to when he came back in cuffs." He shrugged, "I can't say I was watchin' her the whole time but…I really don't think it was her."

Abbey nodded, "I appreciate that, but if she's not the connection, she may be a trustworthy resource. Where is she now?"

"Getting a new warrant and hitting the case she and Reagan think started this whole heap of mess." He dropped into his chair.

Abbey frowned, "Getting a new warrant? What was wrong with the old warrant?"

"There isn't one." Sid dropped Lansing's personnel file back on top of the stack. "Ward never cut one. He told Danny he'd have to wait until next week."

Abbey bit her lip.

Sid shook his head, "Saul Ward was a good cop before he became a good ADA." He gestured over the desk, "He never worked for IAB and I've never known him to have any kind of issue with _any_ of the Reagans."

"Well, it's all we have right now." She frowned. "Do you mind if I take Detective Lansing's file with me?"

"Go ahead." He handed over the slim folder, "I don't think there's anything there but if there is something I can do, you call me."

She nodded, "Thank you, I might." She glanced at the closed door, "And even when this is wrapped up, please don't let anyone know I was here; there is a small number of us trying to work on this without the Commissioner knowing."

Sid shook his head, "He won't hear a thing from me." He shrugged, "Not that I talk to the guy at all anyway. To me this has nothin' to do with 1PP; it's about tryin' to do right by a good detective who is getting massively screwed."

A genuine smile pushed across her face. She looked around the stack of personnel files and back to the determination in the Sergeant's eyes, even as his body language screamed exhaustion.

She nodded, "Danny's lucky to have you on his side."

Sid faltered for a beat before he sighed, "Apparently he's got a number of folks on his side; hopefully at least one of us can work this out."

* * *

Thankfully they did work it out.

Abbey had left Elwood's file on her desk and the next day, although it hadn't appeared to be moved, when she opened it she found familiar handwriting had circled Saul Ward's name on Elwood's list of partners and an arrow to a note, 'Warrant Request'.

She smiled at the Commissioner's closed door and brought the corroboration down to Garrett along with the information that Kate Lansing would know about Derek Elwood and could be trusted.

By the next evening Danny was exonerated, the Commissioner was breathing easier and she slipped one of the Commissioner's nice cigars into the envelope she used to mail Detective Lansing's file back to Sergeant Gormley.

If the Commissioner noticed he was missing a cigar he didn't say anything. The whole of the next week he remained positively upbeat even as information from Garrett and Jim's sources solidified the case against Elwood and IAB had to be put under scrutiny yet again.

Despite everything he maintained his buoyancy right up until he left early on Friday, headed for his annual camping trip with his father and sons.

She had grinned after he left and put together materials anticipating a productive return to work on Monday. Despite the insanity of camping in the winter time, the more time the Commissioner spent with his family the happier he was, and the happier the PC was, the more efficient the office seemed to operate. She was looking forward to having a busy week with an upbeat Commissioner without any unnecessary drama.

So it was with surprise that she watched the PC arrive for the day, heavy-footed, eyes downcast and without a typical morning greeting as he disappeared into his office.

Her heart plummeted; If something bad had happened on the trip there is no way she would have known. She glanced to Jim who just shook his head with a wisp of a grin.

Confused, she gathered the relevant folders for the day and timidly entered the office.

The PC sat at his desk, still in his overcoat, elbows braced on the desk and head in his hands.

"Sir…?" She stepped forward trepidatiously, stopping when he held up a hand.

"Shh…Shhh…" He muttered, not looking up.

She blinked and stood in her place, unsure of how to handle this. She had seen the Commissioner in all states from exhausted to grieving but was unable to place what was currently going on.

He exhaled and pushed on his forehead. "Just…" His voice croaked, "Don't give me anything yet."

"Yet?" She clarified lowly.

He dropped his hands but his head stayed bowed, eyes closed, "Just…no reports ...or meetings...or anything for just a few minutes…or hours…" He groaned and brought his hands back to his eyes, "Or ever. Never would be good."

She stared back, jaw slowly dropping. She was starting to understand Jim's enigmatic expression. She recognized the symptoms but she had never thought she'd see them on the Commissioner.

"Sir…" She tried again, speaking lowly, "When did you get home from your trip?"

"Early this morning." He muttered, "No one was in position to drive last night."

She had to bite down hard on her lip to keep from smiling too broadly, "Okay…Why didn't you just stay home?"

"Because I'm not sick." He ground out, followed a beat later with another groan, "Just dying."

That did her in. She was grateful his eyes were closed because she could not keep the grin off of her face.

"You know you have the mayor at 1330?"

He groaned again. "Do me a favor and just shoot me?"

She sighed and decided to take pity on him. "I think I have a better plan then that. Just put your head down and I'll be back in 20."

She shut off the lights and exited the office with wide-eyed humor directed at Jim.

The other detective just shrugged, "First time for everything."

She laughed as she put down the daily briefs, "I'm running across the street. Don't let anyone in there; _especially_ the DCPI."

"10-4".

When she returned Jim was in the middle of a standoff with Garrett.

"I know you said 'no'." Garrett was leveling at him, "I'm asking _why._ "

Abbey sighed as she ditched her coat.

"Baker, what's going on?" Garrett turned his attention to her.

She smirked, "You can come in with me but you have to be nice."

" _Nice_?" Garrett frowned, "When am I not nice?"

"Just…be quiet." She instructed as she slowly opened the office door. Garrett followed her, freezing two steps inside.

The Commissioner had removed his trench coat which lay across the desk next to where his face was buried into the back of his hands.

She picked up the jacket and placed a Gatorade and breakfast sandwich in its place.

"What's this?" He muttered.

"Orange Gatorade and a greasy egg, cheese and sausage on a bagel." She explained. "Finish that and a cup of black coffee; it's not a cure but it's guaranteed to cut any hangover in half."

"Hangover?!" Garrett exclaimed earning him a groan from the PC and a glare from Baker. "Sorry." He whispered.

Frank choose to ignore him, instead looking at Abbey with pathetically miserable eyes, "Are you sure that shooting me isn't a better plan?"

She smiled sympathetically, "Everyone is different but this works every time for me."

" _Every time?_ " He repeated, "You've been through this more than once? And you still drink?!"

"Well no one ever _intends_ to get hungover…" She started, stopping and tilting her head, "Wait a minute, is this your _first_ hangover?"

He just grimaced and began unwrapping the sandwich.

She looked to Garrett then back to the PC, "How is that possible?"

"Irish." He muttered not looking up.

"I don't think that's how it works." Garrett grinned. He stepped forward and dropped into one of the visitor chairs as Abbey moved to make the coffee. "What the hell happened, Frank?"

"My sons tried to kill me is what happened." He muttered, biting into his breakfast.

"I'm guessing that's an overstatement." Garrett prodded.

Frank sighed and wiped his chin, "Jack turns 13 this upcoming year. Which means he gets to come along next year which means this year was the last time for a while that we had an all adult trip." He took a sip of the Gatorade, "And between Pop getting mugged, the scare with Sean, Jamie having the suicide by cop incident and Danny being framed…we had cause to let loose a little steam."

"It's been a rough few months." Garrett empathized.

"Keeps one grateful for the good times." Frank replied evenly.

"Going on a 2 day bender in the woods in the middle of the winter counts as the good times?" Garrett raised an eyebrow. "You Reagan's need to get out more."

"That wasn't the intention…" Frank grumbled, gratefully accepting the coffee from Abbey.

She smiled, "Well if drinking yourselves warm isn't the intention of camping in the middle of winter then I'm not really sure I see the appeal."

He shrugged, "Pop started it when I was a kid and I was driving my mother crazy. He decided to take me camping to play Marine and 'toughen me up'."

He narrowed his eyes and waived a hand, "Going in January or February made sense to _him_ because _he_ was in Korea. But from Parris Island to Saigon there was never any snow when _I_ was in the Marines…Don't think Danny saw any snow in Fallujah either…but _still_ there we go, _in the snow_ …because that's what the first battalion did in 1952."

He grimaced. "Regardless, especially since Danny came back from his tours and then Jamie joined the department….we tend to keep that kind of mindset and maybe get a _little_ competitive and forget we're _not_ in the Corps and _not_ 22 years old any more."

Abbey rolled her eyes. It didn't matter the age or professional position; in someways boys truly would be boys.

"How's Henry?" Garrett grinned.

"He's fine." Frank moped, "Any more than three drinks and he's out like a light. He's the one who drove home this morning because he was snoring while Danny, Jamie and I kept the campfire company."

Abbey smiled, "So the boys are in similar conditions?"

"Yeah but neither of them had to work today." Frank gestured with the sandwich, "We got to the house and they didn't even bother going to their own homes. Just crawled into their old beds while I had to go shower and try to remember how to tie a tie with my eyes closed."

"Well, at least you had a good time." Garrett offered.

"I _think_ so." Frank winced, "Not that I can really be sure...Saturday night after we were already warmed up Jamie brought out this stuff he and his friends drink…I guess it's a whiskey but it's cinnamon flavored?"

Abbey blinked, "You mean Fireball? You were drinking Fireball?"

He groaned, "I don't know. Whatever it was we kicked a bottle of it that night. Sunday was pretty much a hair-of-the-dog situation that got out of hand."

Abbey smiled, "Well, it sounds to me that you did have a good time…even if it's a little blurry."

"That's a word for it." He rubbed at his eyes, "I don't know if I'll be able to _look_ at a drink again…"

Garrett and Abbey shared a grin.

"We've all been there." Garrett leaned forward, "Just be grateful it took you this long to catch up."

"Anyone who regularly drinks and feels like this in the morning is certifiably insane." Frank frowned, finishing the breakfast sandwich. "But thank you for this." He gestured to Abbey, "It helped."

"You're welcome." She nodded, "And I can clear most of your morning but you need to review the Compstat numbers before you go to City Hall."

"Okay." He frowned, "Leave them here and might as well get me the bank robbery task force report too. Poole is going to want an explanation before I shut it down."

She took a note and nodded, "Anything else?"

He sighed, "I'm going to go home whenever I finish at City Hall but if you put together whatever was cleared from this morning I will go over it tonight. Hopefully be not too far behind for tomorrow."

She smiled. "Yes sir."

As she turned to leave Garrett settled into his chair with no intention of leaving, "Trust me, I know what you're going through this morning but in all seriousness Frank, it's probably worth it. You all needed to kick up your heels a little bit. I'm glad you had a good weekend with your boys."

Frank gave a half hearted grin, "Me too."


	42. Distention

_A/N - This is a series of snapshots that refer to a few different episodes. The first part refers to episode 3.17 Protest to Much (although takes place a few weeks prior to the events of that episode), the middle part is during the middle of episode 3.16 Quid Pro Quo and the last part is after the events of 3.21 Devil's Breath. This is the last chapter before we dive into the events of the Season 3 finale._

 _A small point - This stretch of episodes brings up some of the more infamous issues of the Blue Bloods timeline. (How long Frank has been PC, Erin's age etc) If anyone has any questions as to how I determined the timeline I'm working off of shoot me a PM and I'll be happy to share with you the timeline that I've built._

 _Thanks All!_

* * *

"I'll get him…" Brian mumbled.

Abbey stilled him, "No, you had him all day. I'll get him."

She tried not to look at the clock as she rolled out of bed and stumbled in the direction of the baby's room.

She picked up her fussing son and held him close, "Shhh…shhhh…I know honey…Mommy's here."

Michael had only started sleeping through the night around New Years and after 2 blissful months of restful nights he had come down with croup and it was back to sleepless evenings.

He seemed to settle down and breath easier when she held him vertical so she tossed a nappy over her shoulder and adjusted him accordingly. She kissed his temple and hummed an aimless little tune as she maneuvered to Brian's computer desk.

She minimized the open spreadsheets and scrolled twitter. She didn't often post but she used it to follow friends and keep in touch with some of the things she missed by not being in a precinct.

She scrolled through and smiled at the expected but still amusing jokes about the finicky weather and skipped over the few shared links about the PC's involvement behind the Manhattan Orchestra hiring the young cellist.

She frowned at a hashtag that kept popping up… **#CPA** At first she ignored it but then she saw it associated with a picture of a pig in a cop uniform, and then another with a picture of the shot up car from November's incident in Cleveland.

She clicked around, " _Citizens for Police Accountability_ …"

She typed the group into the search bar and navigated to their website.

She sighed. A banner across the top promised a rally at 1PP in two weeks.

Rallies weren't anything new but these anti-police ones seemed to be gathering storm more and more.

When she joined the department in 2000, the police were just another part of the community. Crime was down, Law & Order was a popular show, and the citizens seemed to be apathetic at worst.

After 9/11 there was an awkward phase of practical hero worship. She'd be on the beat and people would come up to shake her hand or to get a picture.

The tourists kept it up longer than the New Yorkers; there were some uneasy moments as the new reality seemed to sink in for everyone. It took a couple years to shake out the right balance; civilians were wary and annoyed by heavily armed patrols at landmarks and the time-consuming security checks outside of buildings.

When Reagan became Chief and then Commissioner he worked with the Mayor to peel back the more burdensome security measures, and relied more on cameras that the citizens seemed to find less objectionable then traffic barricades and other hindrances.

However, times were changing and apparently the camera program, which had been so welcomed, was now the target of this particular group's ire. Accusations of 'Police State' were in bold red around the site.

A headline flashed _'Policing the Police - Commissioner Reagan's Nepotism Department'._ She clicked on it out of sheer incredulity.

Front and center was a picture of Jamie Reagan eating a donut. Abbey rolled her eyes. There were no other pictures but a caption promised more to come in the days ahead.

She frowned. Citizens with cell phones were one thing, but an organized campaign to photograph officers on the job to collect fake evidence supporting claims of nepotism was crossing a line. A chill ran up her spine.

She stroked the little NYPD pajamas that Michael was wearing. She and Brian hadn't talked about how they would one day discuss the department and her job with their son but she believed that every cop had a little hope that their child would want to emulate them and at least consider a job in law enforcement.

But as she looked at the website and reflected on past incidents with Reverend Potter and the national attention on stop and frisk…it all seemed foreboding.

The Commissioner had once spoken of _Winds of Change_ and how easily everything they took for granted could be upended.

She held Michael a little tighter and shut off the computer.

* * *

"Psst…Baker… _Abbey_ …"

Garrett was hovering at the edge of the entryway gesturing with his head. Abbey sighed and clicked save on the draft she was writing before heading over to the DCPI.

"What?"

"Not here." He shook his head. "Follow me."

She glanced at the closed doors of the Commissioners office. With a resigned sigh in Jim's direction she followed Garrett down the short stairway to his office around the corner.

She crossed her arms in the middle of his cluttered office as he closed the door. "Is this a state secret?"

Garrett bit at his bottom lip.

She raised an eyebrow and softened, "What's going on Garrett?"

"You weren't listening in on the interview, were you?" He stood behind his desk but didn't sit, hands tapping against the paper strewn across the workspace.

"No…" She shook her head.

Garrett glanced out the window before flicking his eyes back to Abbey, "And he didn't say anything about it?"

"He had a tv interview and phone call with the FBI; he hasn't exactly been in a happy mood." She leaned back against the short filing cabinet, "What happened?"

He winced and pulled out a beaten folder. He tapped it, sighed and handed it over, "It's an op memo I wrote back when I was working the mayor campaign. Beresford had it and quoted it."

Abbey raised her eyebrows and glanced down at paper. "…Beat cop in a CEO's chair…Bull headed union boss…limited to the interest of the rank and file…" She looked up to see Garret shifting his weight and watching her with a steady eye. "Did Beresford say where the quote came from?"

"Just that it was a high ranking member of this office." Garrett rolled his eyes, "But Frank's going to know who it was. He always does."

Abbey looked back down, "Well, that's true." She shrugged, "You haven't talked to him about it?"

He shook his head, "Like you said, he isn't exactly in the best of moods after TV interviews."

"So you ran away." She smirked.

He rolled his eyes, "I'm coming to you for help here."

She shrugged and handed the folder back over, "I don't know what you expect from me."

"Help me figure out what to do." Garrett pressed his hands on to the desk and leaned forward. "You know him."

She dropped her jaw, "And so do you!" She crossed her arms, "Probably better than I do. You two are actually _friends._ "

"Not for long." He muttered.

She rolled her eyes, "Look, what you said isn't even that bad. He _likes_ being a 'cop's cop'; he might not say it but I wouldn't be surprised if he took being referred to as a beat cop and caring more about the rank and file as a compliment."

"You think?" Garrett questioned.

She raised her hands in defeat, "I don't really know. If you think it's going to be an issue I'd say just talk to him about it."

"Could you help feel him out first?" He grimaced.

"How? By passing him a note after class?" She snarked. "I don't think so."

Garrett sighed and pouted at his desk.

She shook her head, "Look if you really feel bad about it then just say so. It was practically forever ago. It won't be a big deal."

"You have too much faith in him." Garrett shook a finger in her direction, "This is exactly something that can get him all bent out of shape and petty."

"Petty?" She raised an eyebrow, "He has 35,000 cops to manage; he doesn't have time to be petty."

Garrett shook his head, buttoning up his jacket, "Doesn't mean he's not." He straightened his tie, "Let me tell you, that pedestal you have him on is not as stable as you think it is."

"And what does _that_ supposed to mean?" She scowled in his direction.

"Nothing." Garrett held up his hands, "It's great that you respect him and you two work great together; there is absolutely no one else who could do that job the way you can…"

He took a step forward, "But by this point you and I have been through some stuff too." He looked her in the eye. "On occasion, it would be nice if you'd also have my back. At least _consider_ that it isn't so easy for the rest of us to work with him and a little greasing of the skids could go a long way."

She clenched her jaw but exhaled and dropped her arms to her sides, "Okay, _maybe_ he can be a little bull headed…but he _is_ the boss." She gestured at Garrett, "And sometimes you can push buttons that you _know_ shouldn't be pushed."

Garrett relented. "I have no intention of pushing his buttons. I just want to clear the air."

She tilted her head and looked him over, his anxiety was genuine and she knew that despite their odd friendship, the Commissioner had a tendency to come down harder on Garrett than almost anyone else.

She softened, "Go talk to him now." She opened the door, "One uncomfortable conversation and then put it behind you."

* * *

Rarely had Abbey ever been so wrong.

Garrett's quote had apparently triggered some of the Commissioner's deeply held insecurities and Garrett's attempt at remedying the situation only made things worse to the point that the simmering friction between the two men had blown into an all out feud.

For her, the situation had gone from amusing to unnerving incredibly fast and for the first time in a long time she found herself relieved when the PC left for his meeting with the mayor. The guaranteed peace and quite during his absence was a blessing.

Not long after he had stalked out the quiet was broken, "Detective?"

Abbey looked up to see the Commissioner's granddaughter approaching her desk.

She glanced at the clock and smiled wryly, "Hi Nicky. Skipping school?"

The teen shook her head, "It's a teacher development day."

"Ah." Abbey nodded, "Well unfortunately the Commissioner isn't in right now."

Nicky frowned, "Will he be back soon?"

"Probably not, I'm sorry." Abbey bit her lip. "Is it something important?"

She sighed, "Not really."

Abbey watched the young girl pull anxiously on the straps of her bag; a stark contrast to the confidence with which she had carried herself during her short visit before Christmas.

"What's going on Nicky?" She pried.

Nicky sighed, "My Dad was supposed to pick me up from Mom's office but he forgot. I didn't want Mom to know because she's always so hard on him for being busy so I told her Dad was meeting me downstairs and then I came here figuring I could hide with Grampa until Dad could make it downtown."

"You think your Grandfather wouldn't also be bothered by your Dad forgetting?" Abbey couldn't help but point out.

"Well, I wasn't going to tell him _that_ part." Nicky rolled her eyes. "I know everyone on the Reagan side hates my Dad." She exhaled and leaned back against the filing cabinet, looking down.

Abbey winced in sympathy; her parents were still happily married but Brian's went through a messy divorce when he was a teenager and she could empathize with some of the conflict that Nicky was experiencing.

"I doubt it's that they _hate_ your Dad." She tried diplomatically, "It's just that they love you and your mom so much that they hate to see either of you let down."

"I know…" Nicky shoved her hands in her pockets, "I do you know. I know that Mom, Grampa and Poppy have been there for me way more than Dad; even before the divorce." She looked down again, "But he's not a bad guy."

Abbey smiled, "I don't suspect he is."

Nicky looked up.

Abbey shrugged, "I don't know you all that well, but I know that your Grandfather thinks that you are a mature and intelligent, young woman who is a good judge of character. For you to want to protect your Dad this much tells me he can't be all that bad."

Nicky blinked rapidly, "Grampa told you that?"

"More or less." She nodded, "You really threw him for a loop when you came by about that college party thing."

"I know." Nicky bit her lip, "I kind of felt bad making him and Mom fight but it felt soooo good to get to go." She relaxed her shoulders and pinned Abbey with a familiar suspicion, "Even if he did pull strings to have the campus cops keep an eye on us."

Abbey fought to keep a straight face, "I can neither confirm nor deny that supposition."

"He is the _worst._ " A broad, fond smile undermined Nicky's words.

Abbey grinned in return, "You know he does it because he worries."

"That's an understatement." Nicky rolled her eyes, "Worrying is like the Reagan family pastime."

Abbey chuckled.

"I'm serious." Nicky nodded, "My mom practically had an aneurysm over that party. Just a few weeks ago she _considered_ joining the board of a charity and twisted herself into a knot because it might have made her too busy. "

She began to count on her fingers, "And Uncle Jamie went and got himself suspended because he was so upset about Pops getting mugged. Uncle Danny is always worrying about Uncle Jamie even though he has a crappy way of showing it. And Aunt Linda is always worrying about Uncle Danny and the boys and Grampa and there's been something weird going on between Poppy and Grampa and of course it goes without saying that Grampa basically always worries about everyone."

She exhaled and walked over to the empty chair and dropped into it, letting her bag slide to the floor, "They're exhausting."

Abbey tilted her head, "How about you? What do you worry about?"

Nicky shrugged, "I don't know. My friends I guess. People are being way uncool to a friend at school." She looked down and picked at her thumb, "I mean, I worry about my mom too. She puts on a lot of stress and I'd like to see her happy more often. I know she is afraid to go on dates because of me but I really wish she'd find someone, even just a good friend." She frowned, "Grampa too. They both just work and worry so much."

She smiled at Abbey, "And I think we all worry about Pops; Mom and Aunt Linda are always looking for heart healthy meals."

Her smile faded, "And I worry about Uncle Jamie and Uncle Danny and getting shot or something." She sighed, "And Uncle Danny keeps getting new partners. How are we supposed to trust that his partner will look out for him when we don't even know who they are?"

She rubbed a hand across her face and Abbey sat back, blown by the weight of what Nicky internalized.

"Seems to me you fit right in with the rest of the family." She observed with a soft smile.

"I guess." Nicky sighed. "Sometimes it's kind of nice being with Dad because he doesn't seem to worry about anything, ever."

"I can see the appeal." Abbey admitted. "But it's pretty nice to have such a tight family that cares about one another so much."

Nicky nodded, not looking up, "I know I'm lucky." She frowned, "I just wish it were a little easier sometimes."

Abbey smiled, "That sounds about par for the course when it comes to being 16."

"Not exactly comforting." Nicky smirked.

"It's all I have." Abbey grinned in return. "What time did your Dad say he'd be able to make it?"

She looked at her phone, "Another couple of hours." She began scrolling through her screen, "I might check in with Uncle Jamie; I think he's off." She smirked, "Maybe I can get lunch with him and _Vinny."_

Abbey rolled her eyes, she knew what _that_ tone meant coming from a 16 year old.

"Well if it doesn't work out you can always come back and hang out here. I promise I won't put you to work."

"Thanks Detective." Nicky grinned as she grabbed her bag from the floor. "I'll let you know if I'm coming back."

"Have a good afternoon." She waived as the teen left.

She sighed, Nicky was always a whirlwind and it was truly astonishing how fast she was moving from young girl to young woman.

Abbey empathized with Nicky's frustrations but her heart really went out to Erin; she could not imagine the stress of going through parenthood essentially alone, even without all the other stress that came with the Reagan clan.

She frowned to herself; she really did not want to get in the middle of the Commissioner and Garrett's bickering but Nicky's words reminded her the value of that that rare friendship. She sighed, maybe she could figure out a way to help the men come to an understanding.

* * *

A few weeks later Abbey was reminded of Nicky's visit when she ran in to Vinny Cruz in the hall of 1 PP.

"Officer Cruz." She greeted with a smirk, "What brings you here?"

The young man swiveled his head, "Detective Baker." He smiled, "My partner wanted to sit in on the PC's press conference about Officer Grasso.

As if hearing them talking about him Jamie came from around the corner.

"Hey." He nodded to them both.

"So," Vinny prodded, "What happened."

"He did the right thing." His pride leaking through the succinct reply.

Abbey smiled, "Did you have any doubts?"

Jamie exhaled and shook his head, "I don't know. It was a tough needle to thread. Respecting the process but not burying a good cop."

"But he pulled if off?" Vinny pushed.

"Yeah." Jamie nodded, smiling, "Yeah he did."

"There you go. Good cops stand up!" Vinny celebrated and slapped Jamie's shoulder.

Jamie shook him off and looked to Abbey, "Actually, Detective, may be you can help us."

"What can I do?" She shifted the stack of files she was holding.

"I was hoping to grab a minute with the PC but he beelined it out of there with the DCPI." He shrugged, "Any chance he's got a hole in his schedule?"

Abbey smiled, "He's pretty much done for the day. I was just bringing him what he wanted to work on at home. Come on, I'll take you up the back way."

When they arrived at the office she knocked lightly, "Sir?"

"Baker," He cut her off, "This laptop is exploding again. Do you have a moment to take a look at it?"

She restrained herself from rolling her eyes; it seemed the PC broke his laptop every month. "Sure, no promises though."

He sighed, "It's so much easier if you can fix it as opposed to IT, they just keep giving me new ones that need to be set up all over again."

"Okay." She stepped into the room, beckoning Jamie and Vinny to follow, "While I give it a try I thought you might be interested in a couple of officers looking to speak with you."

He looked up with a frown which transformed into a grin when Jamie followed her in.

"I thought I saw you downstairs." He smiled at his son.

"Yeah." Jamie shifted.

Frank put his hands in his pockets, "What'd you think?"

A slow smile grew on Jamie's face and he gave a stilted nod, "Good. Real good."

"Thanks." Frank's smile matched that of his son's and the two shared a moment until he cleared his throat and stepped away from the desk, allowing Abbey to sit in his chair as she rebooted the computer.

"You just come by to give your review?" He questioned.

Jamie glanced to Vinny and shook his head, "No Sir."

Frank looked down, "Didn't think so." He took a deep breath through his nose, "What's up?"

"Last fall...you said we could eventually talk about the gangs in the housing projects like Bittermen." Jamie swallowed and fidgeted with his cap.

Frank nodded, "I did." He leaned back against the arm of one of the chairs, "Chief Kent and I actually talked about it last month at Thomas' promotion ceremony."

"Oh?" Jamie glanced to Vinny and back.

Frank sighed and crossed his arms, "Look, I know you two have personal cause to be interested in Bittermen specifically." He looked at Vinny for a beat, "But you also know the gang task force has limited resources and that I've been dealing with budget pressures since the summer."

"So, what are you saying? That it's just status quo?" Jamie dropped his arms.

"No." Frank retorted evenly, "I'm saying that your concerns have been heard but reality is tricky." He crossed his arms, "Not unlike this past situation with Officer Grasso. There are processes in place and it's not always clean or easy but I'd like a little trust from you that this office has the right ends in mind."

Jamie sighed, "I trust you Dad."

"Doesn't really feel that way." Frank suggested.

"How so?" Jamie balked.

Frank shrugged, "It looks like you're taking advantage of your hook to circumnavigate the chain of command." He shrugged, "Why would you do that if you don't trust us to get to work on this."

Jamie exhaled and shook his head, "Look, I'm sorry. I don't mean to imply anything. And I meant what I said back in October, I know you have a whole city and limited resources but I also know that I'm the only uniform cop whom you speak with on a regular basis and I'm definitely the only one who isn't afraid of telling you where the department is coming up short." He shrugged, "I know the process works but the process takes time and I'm telling you that as the boots on the beat, the longer this goes unchecked the harder it gets."

Frank exhaled and pursed his lips, staring at Jamie for a long moment. He uncrossed his arms, "Okay. Why is it getting harder?"

Jamie glanced at Vinny who swallowed but stepped up to stand shoulder to shoulder with Jamie, "Sir, the gangs in the projects have never been intimidated by the police but at least there was some deference in the past. They used to look at NYPD like another gang; don't mess with them and avoid trouble. "

"That's changed?" Frank tilted his head.

"They don't take us seriously at all." Jamie explained, "When we make an arrest, less then 48 hours later the guy is back on the street laughing at us. We need to catch them red handed for anything to stick and unfortunately they aren't that dumb."

"Wait..." Frank held up a hand, frowning, "Why the fast turn around? What's wrong with the arrests?"

"Nothing." Vinny answered with a tinge of exasperation. "Sir."

Jamie smirked at his partner before looking back at his Dad, "The DA's office won't prosecute if there isn't a complaining witness."

"Since when?" Frank stood up, glancing to Abbey.

She shook her head, this was the first she had heard of it.

"A while now." Jamie explained, "It's not official policy that is written down anywhere...it's just kind of become a thing. An unofficial policy. And the gangs have started to realize it and take advantage."

Vinny nodded, "Noone in those communities will dare speak out against the gangs."

"With no complaining witnesses no arrests stick." Jamie concluded, "They walk around like they have immunity." He shrugged, "They keep pushing boundaries and there's nothing we can really do."

"Okay. You're right." Frank nodded, "No one has mentioned this issue to Chief Kent or myself and it's one that we should have been made aware of when it first started."

He closed his eyes and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "With Chief Hines retiring next month and the gang task force in it's current commitments there isn't much in terms of resources but apparently that doesn't matter if the DA won't do his job." He sighed, "Let me get to work on him, see if I can't move the needle on that." He looked at the two officers, "You guys EoT?"

Jamie shook his head, "No, uh, we're on meal with permissions for the press conference."

"That Sergeant of yours is a soft touch." Frank smirked, "You two head back to your shift and I promise I won't let this go."

"Thanks." "Sir." The two officers nodded and headed out.

Jamie paused at the door, "And really...good job with Officer Grasso, Dad."

Abbey watched Frank smile wordlessly.

"He's pretty proud of you." She observed after the door closed.

"Every once in a while I can actually do something right in the eyes of my kids." He shook his head.

She rolled her eyes, "I think it might be more often than that."

He shrugged, "So you never heard about the DA dismissing charges without a witness?" He changed the subject.

She shook her head, "It's new to me."

He frowned, "How's my computer?"

She shrugged, "I just restarted it and it seems to be working fine."

"Of course." He rolled his eyes. "I'm heading home." He put the computer into his briefcase and finished gathering his things.

He paused on his way, "Do me a favor? Sometime this week, see if you can gather some hard data on the get out of jail free cards the DA is dealing. If I'm going in I'd like to be sure we're correct."

"Of course sir." She nodded.

He shook his head, "We've ignored Bittermen for a long time..." He looked at her, "Hopefully it hasn't been too long."


	43. Disruption

_A/N - 2 part episode requires at least 2 chapters. This is during the first part of the Season 3 Finale "The Bitter End"._

* * *

Abbey's hands gripped the edge of Michael's crib, watching the little boy's chest rise and fall.

Brian's footsteps approached from behind but she couldn't turn her attention away from the sleeping baby.

Her husband's hands wrapped around her midsection and his chin landed on her shoulder. "You were up half the night." He murmured, "Everything okay?"

She covered his hands with hers, "A young mother jumped off a building while holding her infant son." She felt the tremble in her chin and she leaned back into his embrace.

He tightened his grip, "That was the phone call last night?"

She nodded and pressed at the moisture in her eyes, not wanting to disturb her makeup before she was even out of the apartment. She took a breath and leaned back over the crib, kissed her fingers and dropped her hand to her sleeping boy.

She spared him one last moment before she stepped back, "I need to get in, the PC will be in early to deal with this."

"Why exactly does the PC need to 'deal' with a suicide?" Brian followed her out of their sons' room.

She pulled her jacket from the front closet, "It happened at the Bitterman Projects. Recently he's been on a crusade with the DA about the whole place; this will only fire him up more."

"Bitterman?" Brian repeated, "That's definitely a place I wouldn't want to go after dark."

Abbey frowned, "How do you think the people who live there feel?"

He paused and nodded, "I get it." He handed her the coffee thermos from the counter, "You and Reagan going to take down the bad guys?"

"So far it's been a lot of tilting at windmills." She glanced in the direction of Michael's room, "But perhaps last night's tragedy can help change things for the better."

* * *

She was grateful to have arrived at the office prior to the PC but judging from the text from Jim she only had a few minutes to get a handle on whatever details had come in overnight.

She opened the database and hit print on the radio transcript and initial scene report. Her eyes scanned the documents as she organized them, halting on a familiar name.

Danny had caught the case. This could be a good thing or bad thing; with his son taking lead the PC would feel more connected to an incident he cared about, but tension was always higher when Danny was on a big case.

She frowned as she continued through the transcript; the responding officers had been assaulted with bottles thrown from the roof and Danny had been hit. Telling Frank Reagan that one of his children was involved in an incident was usually the worst part of her job and it only got worse when it was this close to the anniversary of Joe's death.

She glanced ruefully at the desk calendar; TS Eliot had it wrong, _May_ was the cruelest month.

The sound of doors sliding open caught her ear and she straightened her shoulders, moving to meet her boss at the elevator.

"Baker." He greeted. "Where are we?"

She walked in lock step with him in the direction of his office as she handed over the top folder she had assembled, "The sergeant endorsed the initial officer's report that the incident was an intentional suicide. The ME put a rush on the tox screen but initial indications are that the young woman was sober."

She exchanged the next file for his overcoat and continued speaking as she hung it up, "The victim's family has not been found and police on the scene encountered difficulty receiving information from residents. A few bystanders came out but went back inside after suspected gang members pelted the scene with glass bottles."

She paused, waiting for the inevitable.

"Was anyone hurt?" He scanned the file.

"Not badly. Three of the responding personnel sustained minor injuries; Officer DeVore, Assistant Medical Examiner Titus and Detective Reagan." She forced her face neutral when his eyes shot to hers, "He caught the case." She stated the obvious.

"Sounds like he caught more than the case." The Commissioner raised his eyebrows.

She put on a tight smile, "Some glass on the top of his head. Report states he denied treatment at the scene." She handed him a cup of coffee, "He's fine, Sir."

The Commissioner exhaled and nodded as he lowered himself into his chair.

"Damnit." He muttered, rubbing his chin.

"Sir?" Abbey hesitated.

He shook his head, "I plan on digging in on this whole Bitterman situation but it's going to require some finesse." He winced, "And Danny may be a great detective but if people are throwing bottles at his head he'll want to go at them with all the finesse of a jackhammer."

He dropped his fist to the desk and tapped, "Okay, give me a couple of minutes to make a quick call and then I need to see the DCPI and Chief of Department individually at some point this morning."

"Yes, Sir." She nodded.

"And ADA Reagan is coming up for lunch around noon but I'd like to get on the Mayor's schedule this afternoon or whenever his next opening is." He looked at her sharply, "No later than tomorrow."

"Absolutely. Anything else?"

He pursed his lips and looked down at the files in front of him, "You and I have talked about going on detours before; this is a big one. For too long this has been a festering problem and I'm not going to let this office be complicit anymore." He looked up, "You ready to work on this?"

"Of course." She nodded her resolution.

* * *

"I'm just saying; we don't need to go over there." Brian was complaining from the other room as Abbey poured a few cheerios onto the tray of Michael's high chair.

"Hon, it's mother's day next week. We need to go see your Mom." She smiled as Michael took a piece of the cereal out of his mouth and stuck it on his cheek, grinning in delight.

Brian leaned on the breakfast counter, " _You_ have a mother. Why can't we go there?"

Abbey gave her son a tickle before turning to her husband, " _Because_ we're going to my parents' on Monday night for Michael's birthday."

Brian's pout transformed into a smile as he looked over her shoulder, "That's right! My little man; 8 days away from one year!" His eyes flicked back to Abbey's "It's kind of unbelievable."

"It really is." She smiled and looked back at their son who was laughing happily with four cheerios stuck on his cheeks.

The sound of her work cell ringing from the next room caused the smile to slide off her face.

"I really hope you don't have to go in." Brian grumbled as he put down the dishcloth and moved to sit next to Michael. "You've been running all week."

She shook her head, "I know. Don't worry. I won't unless the Commissioner does and it's Sunday afternoon; it takes something pretty seismic to disrupt Reagan Sundays."

She made it to the living room in time to pick it up on the 4th ring, "Baker."

"Um, yeah, hi. Detective?"

She frowned at the familiar voice, not quite placing the Queens accent, "Yes, this is Detective Baker. Who's this?"

"Uhhh. Geeze..." The voice on the other side took a haggard breath, "Yeah, it's...it's Sergeant Renzulli, from the 12th."

Time slowed and she felt her heart clench.

"Tony?" She was barely able to ask.

"Yeah, um, I was told to call you; that you're the one who informs the PC on urgent matters." Renzulli continued in a shaken voice.

She nodded before she remembered he couldn't see her, "Yes. Tony what happened."

"We..." He stopped and exhaled away from the mouthpiece, "We have an officer down."

She closed her eyes and silently prayed to any God that might be listening, _'Please don't make me tell Frank Reagan he's lost another son...'_

"Officer Vinny Cruz."

Never before in her life had she experience such simultaneous relief and devastation. The tears came to her eyes as the tension around her heart released but the guilt roiled in her stomach.

On auto-pilot she moved to her room and began searching for a clean outfit while keeping Tony on the line, "What happened?"

She held the phone between her chin and shoulder as she used her personal phone to text Jim to get rolling to the PC's house; details pending.

"Well, uh… Tony swallowed, " Officer Cruz and his partner chased a 10-30 into the Bitterman Housing project. Officer Reagan called for a 10-85 in support of the chase but before back up arrived someone took shots at the officers with a pistol from the roof. Reagan took a bullet to his vest and Cruz was struck in the neck. Reagan called a 10-13, returned fire, and pulled his partner behind cover but..." He took a breath, "The M.E. isn't here yet but I can tell ya it hit his artery. The kid didn't have a chance. It was quick."

Abbey's shaking hands struggled to pull up the zipper on the slacks she had thrown on. She took a breath and tried to think ahead, to what the PC would want to know.

"Officer Reagan, you said he took a bullet?" She swallowed the lump in her throat that accompanied that sentence.

"Y...yes ma'am." The Sergeant replied, "He says he's okay. He's in some shock, we're trying to talk him in to the ambulance now."

"Where will they take him?" She asked.

"Mid-town." Tony replied, taking his voice away from the phone for a moment, "I know! I know, just let him be, I'm coming, he'll listen to me." His voice came back, "Look detective, Jamie's real out of sorts right now. Do you have what you need?"

"Just one last thing." She swallowed, "Do you think Officer Reagan called his father?"

Tony sighed, "No. I know he didn't. I'm real sorry Detective."

"Don't be." She replied automatically, "I'm sorry for your loss Sergeant, go take care of your men, I'll see you at the hospital."

Tony mumbled something in reply and the phone went dead.

Abbey felt her whole self shake and she tossed the phone on the bed and rubbed at her eyes.

"I assume it was pretty bad news..." Brian observed from the doorway, Michael on his hip.

She tried to smile but the tears just built up as she looked at her son. She closed the distance with two steps and placed a gentle kiss on the boy's cheek.

"Daaa" He patted her cheek and smiled with the word he used indiscriminately for both parents.

She squeezed his arm and looked back to Brian, "Very bad news. I need to go."

He nodded as she pulled off her t-shirt and grabbed the first blouse she could. He adjusted Michael as he bent to collect a matching pair of heels and hold them out to her. "Anything I can do?"

She bit her lip and looked to the mattress where she had tossed her phone. "I need to call the PC." She picked it up, "Will you sit with me while I do?"

Brian frowned but joined her on the bed without comment. She hit the speed dial for the Commissioner's cell and reached out for Michael. Brian put their son in her lap and moved close, one arm around them both.

The PC picked up on the 3rd ring and the first thing she heard was fading laughter and Linda in the background chastising someone for saying something gross.

"Reagan." The Commissioner's voice came over the line. If he held any kind of foreboding about being called on a Sunday he didn't let it into his tone.

"Sir..." She swallowed, determined not to give him the same stress Tony had given her, "First of all, Officer Reagan is okay."

There was a pause and she could hear him clear his throat, "What happened?"

"He and Officer Cruz were involved in an ambush at the Bitterman Houses." She took a breath, "Sir, Officer Cruz was killed."

He didn't say anything but his breath audibly hitched and she hugged Michael close to her, "Sir, Detective Nucifero should be to your place shortly."

There was the sound of a door closing on his side of the line, "Where's Jamie?" He asked quietly.

"When I spoke to the Sergeant on the scene Jamie was still there but they are going to take him to Mid-Town Hospital." She bit her lip, "He did take a bullet to his vest but Renzulli indicated that he really was okay."

"Outside of his partner being gunned down in front of him." The PC's tone was acerbic.

Abbey closed her eyes. "Yes, Sir."

"I want to know everything." He ground out.

"I'll make some calls and meet you at the hospital." She agreed but the phone was already dead.

She exhaled shakily and looked to Brian whose eyes were wide. "You okay?" He asked.

She frowned at him, "I will be." She passed Michael back and kissed them each, "I need to get to work."

* * *

She texted Garrett on the way to her car and made some calls as she drove. By the time she arrived at Manhattan's Mid-Town Hospital she was able to swing by the security office and pick up faxed copies of the radio transcripts and Officer Cruz's personnel top sheet.

She borrowed a folder to put it in and made her way to the emergency room.

There was trail of uniformed officers milling around which she followed to a small room tucked behind the nurses station. She hovered just outside, not wanting intrude but needing to see for herself.

Jamie sat on the edge of the gurney, eyes unfocused in the direction of the curtain separating the space from the rest of the room. His cheek and neck were streaked with drying blood and his hands were covered. His jacket and uniform shirt were discarded on a chair and he barely reacted as a nurse worked to remove his protective vest.

Tony Renzulli was the only other person in the room; he stood along side the gurney in a detail stance, jaw clenched and eyes focused on his charge.

Jamie's eyes looked up for the first time as the nurse instructed him to raise his arms so she could remove his shirt. He ignored the request as he noticed Abbey outside the room.

She stepped closer to the entrance and tried to muster a comforting smile, "Officer." She greeted evenly.

Jamie looked down, "The Commissioner knows?" His voice was thick and raspy.

She nodded, "He's on his way."

He hung his head and wiped at his eyes, leaving another red streak on his cheek.

"Come on now, lift your arms." The nurse instructed again.

Jamie winced but complied and as his shirt was removed the cause of his wince quickly became clear; a large bulls-eye bruise was already starting to color the upper portion of his left rib cage.

As Abbey averted her eyes the sound of boot heels clicking together moved up the hall and she turned to see the officers snapping to attention as the Commissioner and Jim stalked past.

He must have come straight from family dinner; dressed in khakis, a well-worn black flannel button up and one of Mary's cardigans. Despite the dressed down appearance he struck a commanding presence and Abbey sucked in a breath as he reached their corner and stepped into the doorway.

For a barely perceptible fraction of a second he hesitated at the edge of the room, eyes tracing over his son. Jamie didn't look up or seem to notice his father in the doorway until Frank's lips parted and he exhaled a long breath.

Jamie blinked rapidly and his chin quivered as he looked up.

Frank took two quick steps, and stopped at the edge of the bed. He reached out one hand and rested it on Jamie's shoulder.

The tears finally broke as Jamie gasped and leaned in the remaining distance to his father's chest. Frank wrapped his arms around him, whispering into Jamie's ear.

Jamie's finger's grasped at the sweater and he began choking out smothered apologies.

Abbey glanced to Renzulli who had tactfully edged out of the room. "The kid's been blaming himself." He whispered with a shake of his head.

She looked down, knowing that feeling too well. She focused on the floor tiles, taking deep breaths.

"I'm sorry." Jamie's strained voice came through the doorway.

"Don't be..." Frank returned, "You did your job. Don't _ever_ be sorry for coming home alive."

Jamie made an affirmative noise and few shaky breaths. With a heavy sigh Frank stepped back, his hand lingering on Jamie's shoulder before he let it drop, allowing the nurse to approach again.

The Commissioner's hands fisted and he shoved them into his pockets only to pull them back out, clasping them in front, squeezing at his fingers as he rolled his lips. He shifted his weight and his eyes scanned the room but kept drifting back to the circular bruise on Jamie's chest.

The nurse finished listening to Jamie's breath and removed her stethoscope, "The doctor is going to want a chest x-ray."

Jamie didn't respond but Frank gave a choppy nod, "Right. Of course." He began to step back, gesturing to the door, "While you get that done I'll just…" He took another step, "Be...uhh...a moment…" and he turned and walked briskly down the hall, leaving Jamie blinking in the direction of the empty doorframe.

Abbey glanced between the room and the hall. Renzulli looked at her with raised eyebrows. She was saved from commenting by the frantic sound of others approaching.

"Baker?" Henry and Erin called out the same time Danny waived down the Sergeant, "Renzulli, where's my brother?"

Mutely both she and Tony pointed in the direction of Jamie's curtained off corner. Danny and Henry both had the same doorway hesitation as Frank but Erin pushed between them, going straight to Jamie and hugging him gently before stepping back and looking him over, wide eyed, hands resting on his shoulders.

"You're okay?" She tilted her head as Henry and Danny came in and stood on either side of her in the tight room.

"Yeah, sure, yeah. I'm fine." Jamie shrugged off her touch.

She shook her head, not bothering to hide the tears, "We didn't know what happened; Dad took a call, the SUV pulled up and he just left." She shook her head, "Grandpa had to call Garrett to get any explanation but he didn't know much…"

"Well I'm fine." Jamie wrapped his arms around his exposed torso, "You all didn't need to come down here."

"Like Hell we didn't." Henry admonished.

Jamie clenched his jaw but said nothing as he looked back and matched eyes with his Grandfather.

"He's right, Kid." Danny nodded, "We've got your back on this." His mouth tightened until his lips formed a thin line, "And listen, I know that nothing's going to make what just happened better but I promise you…"

He tilted his head forcing his younger brother to look at him, "Jamie…I promise you, as your brother, Reagan and NYPD, I'm going to get these guys. I know who's got to be behind this and I'm not going to let Santana have a moment's rest until he's buried behind bars. You got me?"

Jamie looked down and shook his head loosely, "Sure. Whatever Danny." He didn't look up, rubbing at the drying blood on his thumb.

He accepted a folded hospital gown from the nurse but made no move to put on. He held it in his lap and shifted to look around Danny, ignoring the looks Erin and Henry exchanged, "Sarge?"

"Right here, Jamie." Tony stepped back into the doorway.

"Who brought Vinny back?" He swallowed.

Tony sighed, "Collins and Salazar stayed with him all the way to the M.E.'s office."

"And the Captain called his Mom?" Jamie asked.

Tony gave a sad smile, "Yeah, the Captain went over to her place."

Jamie nodded and looked down, "Okay."

Danny frowned and looked to his Grandfather, "I'm getting changed and going back to the precinct." He turned back to Jamie, "We're going to get these guys, I promise you that." He gave turned on his heel and breezed past Abbey, slapping at the door jam, a thunderous look in his eye.

Henry watched him go as Erin kept her eyes on Jamie.

He shook his head, "You two can go too. I'm fine."

"Not really." Erin called him out, "But that's okay."

Henry frowned, "Where on Earth is your father?"

Jamie shrugged and Abbey straightened as Henry looked in her direction. "Umm…" She gestured down the hall, "He had to step out, but I'll go get him."

She turned and walked in the direction she had seen the PC disappear. Truth was she didn't know where he had gone but glancing at the hospital directional signs she had a pretty good idea.

She turned the last corner before the Chapel and saw him, back pressed against the wall just outside the door to the sanctuary.

He glanced up at the sound of her approach and she immediately faltered. From a distance he had appeared bowed, broken; shoulders hunched and eyes downcast. But as soon as he looked up she could see the energy radiating off of him.

The hunched shoulders and tilted neck were taught, his hands fisted and his pupils dilated to the point his steel gray eyes stormed dark.

She swallowed and forced herself to resume her approach. He stared at her, mouth so tight that his lips disappeared under his mustache.

She took a breath, "Your father asked where you went." She gestured to the Chapel door, "I figured this was as good of a guess as any."

He shook his head, "Never made it inside." His voice was low.

"Can I ask why?" She pressed.

He glanced in the direction of the stained glass, "It seemed deceitful to give prayer while feeling murderous."

She blinked and fought the urge to back away, even as she felt her pulse quicken. She closed her mouth, unsure of what to say.

His eyes roved around the room, looking up to the ceiling. "He almost took another son from me today." He shook his head, "As we were giving grace He was taking the life of my son's brother."

She released an uneven breath and licked her lips, "Detective Reagan was here briefly but he said he was going back to the squad; that he had suspicions regarding the people responsible." She swallowed, "Erin and your father are still here with Jamie. They were asking after you."

He looked back at her and slowly, very slowly the rigidity escaped his frame and she noticed for the first time that his hands were shaking.

He swallowed and buried them deep in his pockets but the light tremor seem to pass through his whole body.

"I just…." His lips parted, but no more words came out and he looked down.

Abbey tilted her head; a vague memory of when Mary had come to the office to tell him her bad news. He had appeared shaken and Mary had followed Abbey out of the office to give him a chance to collect himself…

"Needed a minute." She finished the sentence for him using the explanation Mary had given at the time.

He looked back up, eyes wide and chin tight. "Yeah…" He nodded. "I couldn't…" He frowned and tried again, "I couldn't let him see how glad I was that it isn't him headed to the medical examiner's office."

Abbey gave him a gentle smile and touched his forearm, "It's okay." She pulled her hand back, "I was sick with guilt over the relief I felt that Jamie was okay when Sergeant Renzulli first told me."

Frank looked back at her, the anger in his eyes dimmed, "Today is the worst day of Mrs. Cruz's life."

She nodded, "Yes it is."

"And one of the worst of Jamie's." Frank frowned.

Abbey nodded again but said nothing.

He brought his hands to his face, pressing his fingers into his eyes and rubbing away the tension, settling back into himself, "Okay." He nodded pushing away from the wall, "Pops is going to have my hide for being away this long."

Abbey gave a sympathetic grin, "I think Jamie was frustrated with all the attention anyway. He probably needed some space."

Frank shook his head, "No." He looked back down the hall, "He's going to _think_ he needs some space. But the last thing he needs is to be alone right now." He frowned, "And Erin and Pop are going to need to carry that job; I'll have to get to the office soon."

He inhaled deeply through his nose and exhaled as he started back in the direction of the ER rooms.

"You tell Garrett?" He asked, eyes focused on the floor tiles.

"Yes, Sir." She confirmed. "He's at the office ready to put together the press conference when you're ready."

He nodded, "The mayor's office?"

"I called Keith." She replied, referencing the Mayor's right hand man.

"Good." He glanced at the folder in her hand, "Did you collect any new information? I don't suppose we have an ID on the suspect?"

She clenched the folder. She really didn't want to tell him what was inside.

He paused his pace and turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "Detective?"

She took a deep breath, "Officer Reagan reported that they chased a purse snatcher into the Bitterman Quad but upon arrival the area was empty. That none of the people typical of a Sunday afternoon were outside." She looked to the folder, "It was only after the officers realized something was amiss that the shooting started from the roof. After the incident no patrol was able to find either the mugger or the supposed mugging victim." She looked up to him, seeing the realization click before she verbalized it, "It was a planned ambush from the start."

His eyes locked with Abbey's, a storm flaring in their depths, "We're going to get these animals." He gave a small shake of his head, "I don't care what the DA or the Mayor has to say, this **_is_** coming to an end. We will get these people who killed Vinny and shot my son. And if there really are any decent people living in that place they _will_ cooperate."

Abbey blinked back to a few mornings' previous recalling the Commissioner's concern that Detective Reagan would overreact in light of the personal assault. As she looked to her boss she saw the same thunderous expression the Detective had when he had left the hospital room.

She remembered once Vinny had explained that Los Lordes used to consider NYPD to be like a rival gang they didn't want to agitate. Apparently, they had no problem stepping over that line but it would seem no one had informed the gang members the dangers of crossing the Reagan family.


	44. Manifestation

_A/N - Not a ton of action here but as a few have you have commented, the lack of attention to what Jamie went through stands out and I felt compelled to do a little character deep dive. BIG shout out to Tateria who messaged with an observation about Baker in the episodes which set a lot of this churning! One more chapter after this to wrap up Season 3._

* * *

"I'm putting on the kettle, want some tea?"

Abbey looked up from the files she had spread on the coffee table and smiled gratefully at her husband, "Yes, please."

She turned down the volume on the TV and joined him in the kitchen, moving in sync to pull out their favorite mugs. She placed a quick kiss on his cheek as she reached around him for the tea bags, "You know, I _am_ aware how lucky I am to have you."

Brian grinned, "Oh yeah? How lucky?"

She settled onto one of the stools on the far side of the breakfast bar. "Pretty damn lucky."

His shoulders dropped and he tilted his head, "You're thinking about work."

She winced and rubbed at her face, "How could I _not_?" She looked in the direction of Michael's room. "I just keep thinking about how desperate one would have to be to jump off a roof with your baby." She looked back, "And the expression on the Commissioner's face yesterday when I told him the shooting had been an ambush…can you imagine having someone tell you that people conspired to shoot at Michael?" She leaned on her forearms.

Brian frowned, "I don't like thinking about that."

She looked down, "I know. I'm sorry." She shook her head, "But it's _all_ I've thought about. All day."

"Longer." He rebutted quietly.

"What?" She looked up with startled eyes.

Brian sighed and moved around the counter to sit on the other stool. He placed his hands on her knees, "Abs, babe…" He took a breath, "I know your work is unique and I know it's impossible to just forget it all…" He gave her a weak smile, "But sometimes, I fear it's too much."

She frowned, "What are you talking about?"

He leaned back, "You've been eaten up since the other night when you got the call about that woman and her baby."

"Of course." Abbey shook her head, "What kind of mother would I be if I wasn't horrified by that?"

"I know…" He rested a hand on her knee, "It's just hard to see you go through this every couple of months; tearing yourself up. Sometimes it makes me wonder how are you going to handle it when Mike gets older and isn't with us every moment of everyday? When he's out there in that world."

She looked down, hearing the truth of his concern but wanting to resist it.

"I'm sorry, I know this is a bad week and I don't want to add to it but…I worry." The kettle sang and he hesitated before standing to pour the hot water over the tea bags.

He didn't say anything else as he handed over the tea. She clasped the warm mug and frowned, he was right. She saw the angst the PC put himself through and she had no desire to follow a similar path.

"What the hell was that?"

She looked up at Brian's unexpected exclamation and follow his attention directed to the television.

The program had been interrupted by a breaking news alert showing a crowd moving frantically in front of the camera.

"What was it?" She looked back to Brian.

He glanced at her and swallowed, "Reagan and the Mayor doing some kind of joint appearance tonight?" He picked up the remote and turned up the volume.

Abbey nodded, "A town hall at Bitterman."

"…fired in the direction of the Mayor and Police Commissioner…" A harried reporter was standing in front of the camera, EMT's rushing against the stream of the evacuating crowd behind her.

Abbey's breath halted and she watched the news report with wide eyes. When it became apparent that no real information would be coming she scrambled for her phone, hitting Jim's speed dial without taking her eyes from the TV, scanning the background for familiar faces.

 _'_ _Detective Nucifero. Leave a message.'_

She bit her lip and automatically moved on to Garrett's number.

 _'_ _You've reached the voicemail of New York City's Deputy Commissioner of Public Information Garre…'_

She hung up, her thumb hesitating over the Commissioner's number. She took a deep breath and placed the phone back on the counter without placing the call.

Brian was watching her carefully, "No one's picking up?"

"Not yet." She shook her head, still watching the screen.

He turned around and clicked on the coffee maker.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

He gestured at the chaos playing out on the TV, "Someone took shots at Poole and Reagan. Even if no one's hurt you're going to need to go in."

She took a deep breath and stood up, "Right."

She paused at the kitchen doorway, looking back to her husband. He shook his head, "Don't worry about it. Go. We'll deal with everything else later."

* * *

3am that night, the office was busier than it was most Saturdays; nearly all the chiefs and deputy commissioners had come in, joined by their executive staffers. From Narcotics to Warrants, every division was invested in trying to build a case against Los Lordes and with shots being fired at the PC and Mayor less then 36 hours after the gang had taken the life of an officer, it had become everyone's top priority.

Bitterman had already been at the top of the Commissioner's target list but the chaos of the evening brought it's own unique flurry of activity which was only starting to taper off.

Hours earlier, Abbey was parking her car at the office by the time Garrett returned her earlier call. Sitting in the vehicle her emotions replayed from the previous afternoon as she went through the relief learning that the Commissioner was fine and the concern over the Mayor being critically wounded.

In that moment she had needed to swallow her nerves and get straight to the business of coordinating with the mayor's office, fielding division reports and keeping away those who would try to leverage the incident for their own benefit.

Now, in the early morning hours, the rush had died down and in the lull she was left to reflect on everything that had transpired; the shootings of the last two days and the suicide before that. Brian's personal concerns that night had her also thinking through every incident that felt like they hit harder since Michael had been born and what that meant for her as a wife and mother.

The thoughts began to become stifling and she pushed back from her desk with an agitated need to take a physical break from her surroundings.

The Commissioner had stepped out of his office some time ago so she felt no hesitation as she walked away with no destination in mind.

Moving on autopilot she approached the kitchenette without any real intention. She glanced at her watch. 0300 seemed like a fair time for a snack so she continued in pausing when she got to the door.

The room was empty with the surprising exception of the Commissioner. He sat at one of the round tables, nursing coffee from a Styrofoam cup, his suit jacket hung on the chair behind him and the top button of his collar undone behind his loosened tie.

He looked up as she entered and made half an effort to straighten, eyebrows rising in expectation.

She curbed her surprise, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were here. Did we run out of coffee in the office?"

His eyes traced her face for a beat and he relaxed, bracing his elbows on the table and shaking his head before taking another sip. "No, we're fine." He put the cup down and tapped the side, "Just needed a change of venue."

She smiled, understanding. "I was just coming in for a yogurt, do you mind?"

"Please." He gestured to the other empty chairs at his table.

"Actually…" He continued as she opened the fridge, trying to find her bag among the jumble of others, "It's pretty late…or, early really...if you wanted to take advantage of the quiet you should go home."

She paused, still facing the fridge, her stomach clenched at her lack of immediate desire to accept his offer. She looked over her shoulder, "Are you going?"

His shoulders ratcheted and he looked into his drink, "No."

She turned back to the fridge, pulled out her yogurt and shut the door, "I'll stay for at least a while more."

He looked up and arched an eyebrow.

She ignored him, searching for a clean spoon. Long nights always seemed to mean that no one felt they had the time to wash the dishes they used and she sighed as she quickly washed one she pulled from detritus across the counter.

The Commissioner's eyes were still on her as she sat at the table and peeled the lid.

"Baker…" He released his hold on his cup and leaned back in his chair, palms flat on the table, "You know you don't need to stay just because I'm here."

She matched his eyes and nodded, "I know, Sir."

He frowned, "What's going on?"

She looked back for a quiet moment. He seemed oddly out of character without the authoritarian context of his office. The circle's under his eyes and looseness of his tie belied his sleeplessness but also made him appear…softer, resigned.

She tilted her lips in a grim smile, choosing to deflect. "How's Jamie?"

He tightened and looked down, "Erin says he's okay. Angry, but dealing."

"Erin?" Abbey questioned.

"Haven't seen him since the ride out to visit Mrs. Cruz." He grimaced, "Needless to say that was a quiet ride. Tonight Erin and Danny had dinner at the house with him and Pop but I went straight from here to the town hall."

Abbey looked down, smothering her gut reaction at the mention of the evening's event. She swallowed and looked up again, "Some town hall."

He snorted, "Unbelievable." He took a sip, "Actually: all _too_ believable." His eyes drifted, unfocused to the center of the table.

"You're okay?" She asked in a subdued voice.

He raised his eyes and shrugged his shoulders, "Yeah, _I'm_ okay." He pushed back in his chair and stood. "It seems like I'm the only one who _hasn't_ been shot or pelted with glass bottles or…" His rising tone cut off and he looked down, shaking his head and bracing his hands on the back of the seat he had just vacated.

"I didn't see it coming. And I should have." He frowned, "I was so focused on getting those people, any of them, to work with us that I didn't even think about the possibility of something like this." He looked at her, "And now it seems like the most obvious thing."

"Hindsight." She offered.

He gave a rueful roll of his eyes and drained the last bit of coffee from his cup.

"I'm a cop. We're trained to go in the direction of the danger and help those in need." He crumpled the Styrofoam and tossed it in the trash across the room, "But I'm the PC now and that's not my job. The gun went off and the mayor dropped but the detail hustled me away from there so fast I wouldn't have been able to get to Poole if I tried."

She bit her lip, remembering the tension on Jim earlier that evening. The other detective was so tense when they returned to the office that he had torn a hole in the paper of his memo book while writing out his account of the evening.

"Sounds like the detail did their job well." She tried smiling.

"Yeah…" He sighed, his attention straying around the room, eventually landing on the mess on the counter. "This always used to drive me crazy."

Abbey watched with interest as the Commissioner began undoing the buttons on his sleeves, methodically rolling each up to his elbow and removing his watch before he turned on the hot water and surveyed the mess of dishes.

Abbey stood and pulled a bottle of dish soap from the side cabinet and handed it to him.

"Thank you." He nodded, lathering up a sponge and beginning to work.

She stood still, watching him for an uncertain moment before picking up a dishrag herself and beginning to dry the washed dishes he placed on the counter.

Standing next to the sink brought her back to the conversation in her own kitchen. She hesitated before breaking the silence, "Brian is concerned that since Michael was born that I take certain cases too hard and it's going to negatively impact my parenting someday." She admitted.

She kept her eyes on the mug she was drying even as she felt the PC's eyes on her.

He looked back to the sink, "Jamie never really wanted to be a lawyer. He always wanted to be a cop, just like his brothers."

It was her turn to look in surprise at the disclosure. "I didn't know that."

Frank nodded, "They used to run around the house playing cop and detective; Danny would be the detective and boss Joe and Jamie around looking for clues to whatever crime they were imagining."

The fond smirk on his face faded and he looked back to the sink, "But Jamie was always his mother's son. We never played favorites of course, but there was some connection between him and her that I never seemed…" He paused, keeping his eyes on the dish he was scraping, "When Jamie was young I was trying to be eligible for promotion which meant finishing my degree in between tours and with a fourth, not exactly budgeted child, I was picking up any overtime I could get my hands on. I really wasn't around much."

He paused the cleaning and braced his hands on the sink, letting the hot water flow over the dishes, "And, I had a few close calls within a few years that scared Mary, made her more wary of the job then she had been."

"We knew Danny and the NYPD was a forgone conclusion; from time he was 3 there was no denying what path he'd eventually take." He smiled, pausing in his movements as he thought back. "She never worried about Erin, and Joe's decision to go NYPD instead of the FBI was so fast that she didn't have time to fret about it."

He resoaped his sponge, still not looking at Abbey, "But the day Joe graduated and she saw the awe in Jamie's eyes, Mary made me promise I wouldn't encourage him to do anything with the NYPD."

He took a slow breath, "She wanted more for him than the family business. He's always had a big heart and amazing potential; Mary always pushed him to realize it." He shrugged, "I was maybe less blunt about it but we were on the same page. I knew what this job exposes a person to, how too much of it can change a person, strip away so much of that optimism and empathy he has."

He frowned. "So I laid on the praise at every report card, model senate and mock trial and debate league victories and I never spoke up whenever Mary redirectred his attention from the department, extolling all the _exciting_ opportunities available to him."

He grew quiet.

"So he went to law school." Abbey finalized.

"To make his parent's proud." Frank pouted, "And I know he thought I was disappointed in _him_ when he changed course. And I _was_ disappointed…but disappointed that I couldn't keep a promise to his mother, disappointed that the choice had been made so difficult for him and afraid. Not just afraid I'd loose him the way we'd just lost Joe…but afraid I wouldn't be able to protect him from all the worst case scenarios a cop can live through."

He exhaled, placing the last cup on the counter, shutting off the water and turning to leaning against the counter, looking down as he dried his hands, "Needless to say that fear has pretty much been born out."

"Just making an already difficult situation, harder." Abbey watched him as she shelved the last glass.

His eyebrows bounced in acknowledgement and he looked back at her, "Look, what I'm _trying_ to say is that you're never _not_ a parent and that's the lens through which you'll see your job now. If you can somehow keep yourself from having it impact your parenting then let me know, because I've been at it for over 4 decades and still haven't figured it out."

She grimaced, "That doesn't make me want to run home and finish the conversation with my husband."

Frank smiled, "Brian's a good guy but there's a saying ' _The only thing harder than being a cop is being married to one_.'" He shrugged, "This isn't easy for him either. I assume he's incredibly supportive, so was Mary…but what I unconsciously brought home impacted parenting choices she made just the same as it impacted my decisions. Both of you need to decide how to deal with that."

He unrolled his sleeves, "From when Danny was an infant Mary and I agreed to reward responsibility with trust and to give our kids the space to make their own choices while making sure they felt a tight connection to home and were always welcome to talk with us. Since she died those guidelines have been all I've had to go by."

"So when Jamie told you he was joining the department…" Abbey nodded.

He sighed, "I had to give him the space and the trust he had earned to be his own man even though I really just wanted to shake him by the shoulders and shove him in to some cushy safe board room." He picked up his jacket, "If you want to let your kids become their own person then it comes at the price of not being able to protect them from everything you fear."

She wrung her fingers, "So how do I deal with the things I fear? The things that we confront with every late night phone call?"

"Someone once told me _'Some days you just have to turn them off.'_ " He smiled gently at her.

She narrowed her eyes, "You _do know_ I was just quoting _you_ when I said that, right?"

"I do…" He dug his hands in his pockets, "But at some level it's true. Part of it is swallowing what you see. It gets harder when you have kids, but they didn't sign up for this; it's not fair to them if they know the stress and worry they put you through."

She looked down, disheartened.

He sighed and looked around the room before landing back on her, "Sometimes, when things happen, and you can't just shut it off then you look for other outlets; a drinking buddy, a hobby…" He looked away, "Or maybe you just hide in your office until you're confident you can keep it together and not project all your concerns and worry onto your kids."

She looked up and their eyes met.

He pulled his hands from his pockets and gestured aimlessly, "I'm the first to admit that I'm no expert. The best I can give you is let your mind be occupied by the good times and shove everything else into a mental box that you leave at your desk. Every Sunday when I look up and see everyone I care about around the same table it adds enough fuel to the tank to get me through most weeks…the day it's not enough is the day I'm done." He shrugged, "Figure out what fuels you and focus on that instead of how hard everything else is."

She nodded.

He looked around the room and rolled his shoulders, "They're swearing in Grace Newhouse at 0700 and I'm expected to be there, so for the next couple of hours I'm going to lie down in my office and pretend to read budget memos."

She smiled "Okay."

He gave a half shrug, "You're not alone Baker. Every cop goes through this when they become a parent. Just remember family comes first and everything else will fall into place. Just no promises that it will be easy."

* * *

"This is not a good idea…"

Abbey looked up sharply at the sound of Jamie's voice coming from the stairs by the elevator. It was early Tuesday evening and she knew the Commissioner was not expecting any of his family at the office.

"He doesn't like it when I go around the chain of command." Jamie continued.

"Who do you think is going to be a more reasoned listener? Some Detective Bureau Captain or Dad?" Erin's voice reasoned.

"I dunno." Jamie's voice got quieter. "All of this is special circumstances. You know all bets are off when a cop gets shot, but the Mayor too? It's not business as normal around here…."

There was a protracted pause before Erin spoke again, "By special circumstances do you mean that the department should allow this kid to be beaten?"

"Should?" Jamie returned, "No. But you know there's a difference between what should happen and reality."

"Do you really think Dad would be on the side of allowing Detectives to beat a kid?"

There was a pause.

"Jamie…?!" Erin scolded.

"Dad? No. No way." He couched, "But the Police Commissioner? In the position he's in right now? I don't know."

"You don't really mean that."

"I honestly do, Erin." He paused, "And I want to be wrong but I don't know. The PC doesn't swing by my office to talk about issues. I don't go up to the 14th floor for lunches on a weekly basis."

"Okay…" Erin drawled, "But you've known the man every day of your life and you aren't exactly strangers. You're talking like he's two different people; he's not. His value system doesn't change just because he puts on a suit and lapel pin."

There was a silent beat and an exasperated sigh from Erin, "Look you're right, I do talk to him in his roll as the PC more than you do but I promise you it's just Dad. He cares about good police work. Anything that can undermine a case pisses him off and if you ask me, physical abuse constitutes something that can derail a case. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Agreed." Jamie muttered.

"So why the cold feet?"

There was a long quiet.

"I don't think he wants to see me." Jamie's voice was small, distant.

Erin audibly sighed.

"The men in this family are going to drive me to an early grave." She muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jamie shot back.

"It means that none of you can just be normal human beings with normal emotions."

Abbey bit her lip at Erin's pronouncement.

"Jamie, Sunday scared all of us. You know Dad doesn't do stuff like that well; he gets weird and distant. Not to mention he is legitimately busy. So don't you do your scared manipulation game with me that you used to do to Mom."

"That's not what I'm doing."

"It's not?" Erin adopted a deep, faux voice, " _'Erin, I have a problem and I don't know how to deal with it...'_ " She tsked, "You know exactly how it should be dealt with, you just hoped I'd volunteer to talk about it with Dad for you the way Mom used to when you wanted to go to some party in High School. I'm not going to play that game, if this is something that he needs to hear then he's going to hear it directly from you."

The footsteps resumed and Abbey smiled as Erin approached the desk, Jamie delayed several seconds behind.

"Baker, does he have a minute?"

Abbey put on a welcoming smile but she clenched internally. The Commissioner's comments during their early morning conversation had been playing through her mind all day and she knew Jamie's appearance would challenge the carefully built façade of control he had been maintaining.

Still, she never ran interference between him and his family so she stood and held the door open for Jamie and Erin.

Twenty minutes later Jamie left with an upbeat, determined stride and the Commissioner was asking her to phone the detectives working the interrogation of Hector Santiago.

Erin remained in the office until a few minutes after the call with the detectives when the Commissioner escorted his daughter to the door. She gave him a tight hug around his neck and a rebuke to make it home to get some sleep.

He gave her a fond, indulgent grin and remained in the doorway as she exited, waiting until she was gone from view to release a heavy sigh.

He glanced to Abbey, seemingly just remembering he wasn't alone.

He winced, "I just made a decision that isn't going to sit well with some folks."

"Sir?" She questioned.

"Jamie's going to take a shot at interrogating Santiago." He waited for her reaction but she clenched her molars, determined not to give away her surprise.

"Okay."

He smirked, "Should probably put the Chief of Detectives on my schedule for tomorrow. The earlier the better. Hopefully I'm doing this for the right reasons and Jamie will be able to get what we need but I'm going to need to smooth some ruffled feathers, especially if it doesn't work out."

" _Hopefully_?" She raised her eyebrows.

He looked to the ceiling, "You know that whole conversation this morning, about the job affecting your parenting?"

"Yes…" She nodded.

"Well," He returned his attention to her direction, "Sometimes it's the inverse; your parenting can affect the job." He shook his head, "And you're just left to hope that it's a good thing."


	45. Resolution

"Let's go get a drink."

Abbey could not find it in her to decline Detective Lopez's suggestion Friday evening. It had been the longest day of an impossibly long week.

After years of mounting tension in Bitterman things finally began to turn around on Tuesday night.

Jamie's interrogation yielded actionable information from Hector Santiago and the next day, Danny managed to convince Santana's girlfriend to collaborate. The two witnesses were the lynchpin, breathing life into hopes of toppling the gang and avenging the shootings of Officer Cruz and the Mayor.

Thursday was entirely dedicated to planning the raid, down to the minute. "No space for mistakes." The Commissioner had instructed the assembled brass throughout the day, "We need to round them all up with charges that will stick. We have an opportunity to do some real good, let's not miss it."

Less than 30 minutes after the "Go" order at 0600 Friday morning, the task force's professional precision resulted in the arrest of nearly 50 gang members without injury or shots fired. Garrett arranged a press conference in time for the 8am news and as the cameras rolled, assistant district attorneys were holding arraignments and fielding unprecedented offers from Bitterman residents willing to testify.

When the Chiefs and Deputy Commissioners reconvened for the operation debrief the usually rote meeting was punctuated by good humor, back slaps and smiles all around.

Unfortunately, the high of the morning's success was short lived as the reality of the past week inserted itself into the schedule.

* * *

At 14:30 she, Garrett and Jim rode with the Commissioner to the Church in Woodside.

Henry, Danny and Erin Reagan were already walking up the sidewalk and paused as Jim parked the SUV.

Exiting the vehicle, the Commissioner looked to his family, frowned, then scanned the area, his eyes coming to a stop across the road.

On the opposite corner, Tony Renzulli stood a step behind Jamie's shoulder, neither making any move to cross the street and join the family or approach the church.

The Commissioner pursed his lips and glanced at the crowd of uniformed officers. He looked to his father, and gestured to the church. "I'll meet you inside."

Frank stuffed his hands in his pockets and crossed the street. He nodded a greeting to Renzulli and tilted his head at his son. What ever words were exchanged were lost in the noise of the passing traffic.

Jamie gave a stiff nod and the trio moved to join the rest of the Reagans entering the church, Frank at Jamie's side and Tony a half step behind.

The funeral, like many held for those gone too young, was crowded. While the Reagan's sat near the front in deference to Jamie and the Commissioner, Abbey, Garrett and Jim found a pew toward the back of the church. Abbey sat between the two men, promising to provide translations for the parts of the service held in Spanish.

After Vinny's cousin delivered the eulogy, Abbey had anticipated the Commissioner to stand and give his customary tribute on behalf of the department. He did stand, but it was only to allow Jamie the space to step around him and out of the pew.

She remembered the look on the young man's face in the occasion of his brother's funeral and today was no different, dry, red eyes and a tightly clenched jaw.

Jamie had sat in silence at Joe's service but today he turned his attention to the assembled mourners.

"Gracias. Me llamo Jamie Reagan. Yo era el companero de Vinny." He started in stilted Spanish, pausing and wincing. "I hope you now understand why I should continue in English." He tried to grin in the direction of Vinny's family.

He took a breath and looked back over the church, "It was Vinny who taught me the little Spanish I do know. He believed that every cop should be able to approach people in their own language. He said it was the fastest way to show respect, even if it was just an introduction." He paused, reflective. "Vinny taught me a lot more than just a few words; even though we had the same amount of time on the job, he taught me a lot about being a cop."

His eyes flicked down, "Vinny Cruz showed me what it really means to have your partner's back. He taught me how to avoid certain assumptions about the citizens we patrol and he knew more about gangs than any officer in the 12; probably more than most of the brass too."

He bit his lip, "Because that was something else I learned from him; that you don't need to come from four generations of law enforcement to be true blue. I don't think there were any officers in the precinct more different than Vinny and I…"

His chin quivered, "But he was my brother." Jamie looked down, and his knuckles turned white with the force he gripped the podium.

A deep breath and he looked up, "Vinny taught me about purpose and passion. Just last week he was telling me how badly he wanted to use this job to make a difference in the Bitterman houses where he grew up. He was passionate about giving back to his community in a visceral way that I'm not sure a lot of people knew and isn't as common as it should be in the department. I'm thankful to him for sharing that part of himself."

He paused and swallowed, "But of all the things he taught me, the one I most needed to learn was the one he was happiest to teach and reinforce, day in and day out. It's how you can take yourself and the job seriously, but still have fun. When anyone of us pictures Vinny, invariably there is a smile on his face. He relished all the joys in life; be it a warm coffee on a cold patrol or 7 digits from a grateful citizen."

With a strained smile Jamie acknowledged the small laughter in crowd, "So while we grieve for Vinny, let's not loose sight of that enduring lesson. If you see someone you find interesting, _talk to them_. If you can go out of your way to do a favor for a tourist, _do it_. And never withhold a smile..."

He looked down, blinking and when he spoke again, his voice cracked, "As he told me, 'Life is too short to ignore the laughs to be had.'"

He swallowed, and exhaled, steadying his voice even as a tear slipped down his cheek, "Gracias. Que Dios bendiga a la familia de Vicente Cruz. Amén."

He kept his eyes down as he hurried from the podium but Mrs. Cruz intercepted him. She wrapped him in a tight hug before pulling back, gripping Jamie's face between her hands. The church was quiet enough that, even in the back, Abbey could hear Vinny's mother when she tilted her head to meet Jamie's eyes and said, "Every day I thank the Lord that he spared your life on that terrible afternoon."

Across the aisle Frank Reagan bowed his head.

* * *

Sitting through the funeral had been an exhausting gambit of emotions and waiting for the elevator in 1PP Abbey felt bone weary in a way she hadn't in a long time.

Detective Cameron Lopez from the first Deputy Commissioner's office joined her at the elevator. "Long day." He glanced at her.

"Long week." She replied.

He nodded, "Very true."

"I hate killed in the line funerals." He added again, rocking on his feet and pushing the call button again.

"I hate funerals in general." She amended. After a pause she looked up, "But you're right; killed in the line is especially hard."

The carriage arrived and she pushed the button for the building's parking garage.

Lopez loosened his tie, "They're holding a racket for Cruz in Bushwick; you going?"

She sighed, "I wasn't really intending on it…"

And she hadn't. She felt drained and the thought of a quiet evening in the arms of her husband was appealing. However, as she looked at the detective pulling at the collar of his class A uniform, she reconsidered her answer.

Sharing a beer with other officers had it's own appeal. There was an understanding between members of the department that she could count on which Brian just wouldn't be able to match, regardless of how hard he tried. That sense of fellowship could be a soothing balm after a fractured week.

"C'mon." Lopez enticed, "It will do you good to spend a night hanging with cops instead of bureaucrats. Besides, it's for a good cause; the bar is donating 20% of the profits to the J-RIP program at Bitterman in Cruz's honor." He smirked, "Let's go get a drink."

She bit her lip. Bushwick was _technically_ on the way home and the more she thought about it the more appealing it was.

"Well…if it's for a good cause." She grinned, " _One_ drink."

Lopez made an exaggerated expression of surprise, "Abigail Baker is hitting the town!"

"Shut up Cam." She shook her head, stepping off the elevator. "I'm assuming it's the place on Cypress?"

"Yeah." He nodded, "About a block off of Myrtle."

"Alright. I'll see you there."

The bar was full when they arrived. Most of the crowd wore the dark shirts of officer and detective formal uniforms. She tossed a twenty in the donation bucket and made her way to the bar. Judging by the raucous noise it seemed most of the crowd had a few hours head start, likely having come directly from the cemetery.

She ordered a beer and accepted it with a grateful sip as she leaned against the bar.

"Sure. _You_ get served righ' 'way. Bartender must know who ya work fer."

She turned to see Danny Reagan slouched in the stool to her right.

"I'm jus' tryin' to get a refill…" He slurred, pushing an empty pint glass to the edge of the bar.

The bar tender shook his head, "I don't give a damn _who_ she works for, but she gets preference because she just got here." He glanced to her, "Not to mention she's blonde…" He leaned on the bar, with a grin.

She held up her hand, "Blonde and married." She smiled back.

"Can't blame a guy for trying." He shrugged.

" _I_ can blame you for cuttin' me off." Danny demanded attention, "Come on, Jerry; Do you have any idea the week I've had?" He leaned across the bar.

Jerry crossed his arms, "You got a ride home?"

"Yeah…" He gestured around the bar, "Someone'll get me there."

With a heavy sigh Jerry grabbed the pint glass that Danny had teetering on the edge of the bar, "Alright, but no more new glasses for you."

"Great!" Danny leaned back with a smile, "I've nev' been that fancy anyways."

Abbey hid her grin behind her beer. Danny narrowed his eyes at her, "You laughin' at me?"

"Not at all Detective." She smiled.

He shifted on the chair, "So…that boss of yours let you out to play?"

She shook her head, "He went home with your Grandfather after the cemetery. I just went back to the office to get my car and some things I'm taking home for the weekend." She sighed, "There's a lot of work that was superseded the last couple of days."

Danny nodded mutely, eyes focused in his beer, shoulders stooped.

She tilted her head, "You okay, Detective?"

He flicked his gaze to her out of the corner of his eyes. He looked back to his drink, frowning. "Did my ol' man… did he mention me this week?"

Abbey's eyebrows rose, "Of course. It's been your case since the suicide, and everyone was talking about how you got Nona to cooperate on Wednesday morning." She nodded encouragingly, "That was biggest break we got; allowed everything else to come together."

Instead of pride, Danny grimaced at the praise and slugged back his drink.

"Danny?" She stepped closer, lowering her voice.

He took another swallow of his beer, "Only makes sense I clean up ta mess I stahted."

Abbey blinked. "Danny…"

"Don' wanna hear it." He cut her off. He turned back to the bar and gestured to Jerry and his empty glass. Jerry sighed but refilled the pint.

Abbey frowned, trying to discern what was driving him. He certainly wasn't celebrating the success. She knew the Reagans made efforts to get to know one another's partners, but Vinny also didn't seem to be the reason the detective was drinking himself into a stupor.

She turned around and leaned her forearms against the bar, pressing the edge of Danny's personal space. "Detective…" She tried reasoning with his professional side, "You did great work this week. The Chief of D's wants to put you up for a commendation."

"Great work." Danny nodded, not looking up from his beer, "Got my baby brother shot, an officer killed. If that weren' 'nough, I almost killed my old man; just my luck the mayor's only paralyzed 'stead." He slammed his drink on the bar, drawing Jerry's attention.

Eyes wide, Abbey waived away the concerned bartender and mopped up the spilled beer with a napkin. "What on _earth_ are you talking about?" She whispered.

"IT'S MY FAULT!" He shouted in her face.

That time he drew the attention of more than just Jerry and Abbey gave placating hand motions to several officers who had turned in their direction.

She leaned closer again, "Okay, I want to know what you're talking about but you're going to have to keep the tone down or else we're both going to get kicked out and I haven't finished my beer."

Danny's shoulders slumped and his face took on all the characteristics of a chastised little boy. He shook his head, "Dad always says to not fly off the handle." He took a deep breath, "I nev' listen."

He looked to Abbey with moisture in his eyes, "Straight out he warned me. He said, ' _Danny, don't make it personal_. _Danny, don't be hitting them with a nuclear missile_.'"

Abbey stifled her grin at his drunken impression of his father.

" ' _It'd be a terrible waste to make a bad thing worse._ ' He said to me…and ya know what I did?" He looked to Abbey with haunted eyes, "I made it worse."

She sighed, "Danny, you were doing your job, you didn't…"

He cut her off, "Investigating a suicide. My own brother witnessed it. No one pushed Noni off that roof." He shook his head, "It didn't require taking on all of Los Lordes."

Abbey lean forward on the bar again, "Maybe not. But the gang activity in those buildings are what motivated that suicide. You were seeing the big picture."

Danny shook his head, "I could've backed off."

"Why would you?" Abbey pushed, "Santana and all his henchmen are in jail right now because of you."

"And Vinny Cruz is in the ground." He snapped.

Abbey released a sharp exhale.

Danny looked back to her, "Saturday, Santana asked me to back off or else he'd declare war on the department."

She blinked. She had read the DD5s of the incident but Danny and Baez had both skimmed over the actual content of the exchange.

"Clearly you told him you wouldn't be backing off." She surmised.

His lip twisted, "I believe my response was something in the area of stepping on his neck."

"Ah." Abbey nodded. She looked at Danny and offered a comforting smile, "Any detective in your position would have done the same. We don't back off because a gang banger asks us to."

"It _wasn't_ any detective." Danny lamented, "It was _me._ " He looked back to his beer, and less then 24 hours later I'm visiting my kid brother in the hospital and Vinny is in the morgue."

He breathed out, bracing his elbows on the bar and resting his mouth and nose against his closed fists. "Maybe another detective could'a talked to Santana, not give in…but not light 'em up."

"I doubt it." Abbey shrugged, "Despite what he might have said, bangers aren't reasonable. No one would have been able to say anything with integrity that wouldn't have ended the exact same way."

"I dunno. You should hear Jamie when he wants something." Danny shook his head, "Harvard can talk a cat out of a tree. Probably would gotten Santana to put the cuffs on himself."

"Again, doubtful." She rebuked, "Regardless, you did the next best thing. Your report instituted the back-up protocol. Jamie himself acknowledged that Vinny choose to continue pursuit even after being reminded to wait for back up."

Danny shook his head, "Sounds like blamin' the victim to me, Baker."

"Not my intention." She straightened, "Just trying to convince you to not shoulder it all on your own."

She took a sip from her beer, "Maybe you lit up Santana, but so would have any detective doing their job. It was a crappy week and you were in the center of it." She commiserated, "But Vinny ignored protocol and the Mayor ignored the Commissioner. Their choices certainly don't mean that they deserved to be shot but they were also _their_ choices. Neither was your fault."

Danny looked down and to Abbey's surprise he pressed the heel of his hand against his eye, wiping. He didn't look up and Abbey had to lean closer to hear what he said next.

"Santana threatened my Dad."

"What?" She blinked, uncertain she had heard right.

He swallowed and looked back at her, "Maybe the Mayor would have made a differen' choice had he all the facts."

His hand wiped his chin and his breath was stilted, "Monday, the day of the town hall?" He looked at her, "I was pissed and had nothin' to go on. So Baez and me, we went down to Santana's bar to see if we could rustle up something." He shrugged, "No real cause, just pushing buttons."

He pulled away from the bar, straightening in his chair, "Santana didn't really appreciate the visit." He looked down, "He tried negotiatin' again. Advised me to check with my 'Papi' before I blew him off this time."

Abbey's stomach clenched and she could only imagine the reaction the implied threat had generated in the Commissioner's eldest.

"It wasn't an attempted assassination of the Mayor." Danny pinned her with an intense, eerily familiar stare, "It was an attempted assassination of the Police Commissioner that went wrong."

She swallowed and tightened her hands around the beer glass. "You didn't tell anyone." It was said as a statement, not an accusation.

"Would you?" He frowned, "If you had done something that made someone take shots at your father would _you_ want to admit it?"

She took a few steadying breaths, nodding slowly. "First of all, just like the other instance, there's no way you could have agreed to whatever Santana was offering. It would have been capitulation."

Danny snorted.

She took another deep breath, "Second of all, it wasn't a targeted assassination attempt on anyone."

He cocked an eyebrow.

"Have you _seen_ Hector Santiago?" She pointed out, "If they cared about who got hit that night they wouldn't have put the gun in the hands of a developmentally disabled kid who doesn't know the difference between a gun and a video game." She shook her head, "They just wanted to continue the chaos and plant more fear among the citizens. Chances are the plot was already in place before you went to that bar. It wasn't your fault."

Danny stared back at her, blinking as his eyes scanned her face. He seemed to deflate with a long sigh and leaned forward again, taking a drink from his beer.

Abbey watched with a small, sad smile. "You know, the Commissioner _does_ talk about you."

Danny swiveled his head to look at her again, "He say my temper make me a liability?"

"No." She shook her head. "What he says most often is how much of himself he sees in you."

Danny's eyes widened and his jaw tightened.

She shrugged, "Honestly I don't always see it; but this whole, ' _feeling responsible for everything that goes wrong in the world'_ does seem awfully familiar."

A slow smile spread across his face, "Can I buy you anotha' beer detective?"

She was about to decline only to be interrupted by a familiar voice, "Great, just great…"

She turned to see Tony Renzulli dragging a barely coherent Jamie in their direction.

The sergeant deposited the younger man on the empty stool next to Danny. Jamie slumped against his brother, mumbling something about wanting pancakes which only served to expand Danny's smile into a full blown grin.

Renzulli shook his head, "I was going to ask you to help get your brother home but it looks like someone needs to be helping you out too."

Danny waived Tony off while sipping on a new beer. "We'll be fine…"

"Fine." Jamie nodded in agreement. "Danx." He took the beer out of Danny's hands managing a sip before Danny pulled it back, sloshing the beverage on to his lap.

Tony shook his head, "You got Linda picking you up?"

Danny shrugged, "Nah…" He gestured to the door, "We'll just walk. Jus' like walking a beat but more fun because beer is involved."

"Walk where?" Tony crossed his arms, "Neither of you lives here."

Abbey sighed, "I can drive them, Sergeant." She glanced at the two brothers bickering over Danny's beer, "Do you know where they live?"

Tony shrugged, "Not specifically. Jamie has a place in Brooklyn Heights and I think Danny's still in Staten Island." He shook his head, "But I'd make him just crash with Jamie."

She bit her lip, "You don't know where in the heights?"

"Sorry." He frowned, "Jamie…hey, Kid….Officer Reagan!"

Jamie turned sloshing eyes to his superior, "Yes, Sir, Sarge!" He began to laugh.

Tony leaned in, "We need your address. Detective Baker is going to drive you home. Where do you live?"

He shook his head, "I cannnt have any girls ove my place Sarge! It's a mess. Not like Dana's place…That was a niiiice apartment." He looked back to Danny, "Did I tell you about Dana's place?"

Danny frowned, "You didn't tell me 'bout Dana! Watch you doin' at some girl's 'partment? 'eh?"

Jamie's shoulders stooped, "Gettin inta a fight about the NYPD an' Joe…."

Danny's shoulders matched his brother's, "Oh…"

Abbey sighed as the brothers remembered their brother.

She looked to Tony and shook her head, "Forget it. I have a plan, just help me get them in the car."

* * *

20 minutes later they pulled up to the brick house and Abbey was grateful to see the light on in the front window.

Both of the Reagan brothers were still drunk but had sombered since Jamie's mention of their fallen brother. She enjoyed the happy humor drunks they had been at the bar, but it was much easier to get them heading up the sidewalk in their more serious mindset.

Jamie was wavering on his feet so she stayed with them up to the door. She tried the doorbell once, noting the lack of ring she opted for the heavy brass knocker.

A few moments later Henry Reagan answered the door, staring in surprise for a beat, looking between his grandsons on the front stoop before understanding crossed his face.

"Francis, we've got company." He shouted over his shoulder before looking in concern at Jamie who leaned against the door frame. "You alright?"

"No." Jamie brooded. He looked up, past his grandfather, eyes landing on his father who stood in the throughway to the kitchen.

Frank's own eyes were rimmed and bagged, his jacket and tie gone, vest unbuttoned. He held a glass with a tall pour of amber liquid.

Jamie straightened and brushed past Henry, wordlessly ascending the foyer stairs.

Henry and Frank watched him go. Frank's eyes then fell to Danny while Henry's landed on Abbey, eyebrows raised.

She tried to smile, certain she was failing, "You know how it is, everyone wants to buy a drink for the partner." She shrugged, "He'll need some water."

Henry nodded, "Thank you for bringing him home."

"What about you?" Frank had stepped closer, questioning Danny who still stood on the stoop next to Abbey. "Coming in?"

She frowned as the warm light of the house highlighted what the dark bar had hidden, the detective's pale skin was ashen and his averted eyes widely rimmed red.

"Im fine." He answered his father, shoulder's bowed, eyes downcast.

Frank shared a quick look with Henry. "You want another drink?"

"No." Danny shook off.

"How about coffee?" Henry offered.

Danny still didn't move. "No."

"Want me to call Linda?" Frank tilted his head.

"No."

"One of us can drive you home?" He tried again.

Danny sighed, "I jus' want…" He frowned, looking up to his father, "Can we jus sit? For a little bit? Can we do that?"

The tight line of Frank's lips faltered and he nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, we can do that." He extended an arm, "C'mere."

Danny took a shaky breath and finally stepped into the house, allowing his father to drape an arm over his shoulders and guide him into the next room.

Henry watched them before turning back to Abbey. She shrugged, "I'm sorry, they didn't have a ride and I don't know where they live…"

He held up a hand, "Don't be sorry. Bringing them here was the best thing that could have happened tonight." He glanced to the other room, "For all three of them."

She smiled.

"Now, can I get _you_ anything?" He offered, "Scotch, coffee, tea, water?"

"No, thank you, sir." She breathed, "I have my own boys waiting for me at home."

Henry smiled and nodded, "Very well then. Thank you again Abigail, for all you do, above and beyond."

She wasn't sure what to say so she just nodded, "Please have a good weekend."

"You too Detective." Henry waived her off and shut the door as she turned back in the direction of her car.

She exhaled a long breath and looked up. Bay Ridge was residential enough that a few stars could actually be seen from the Reagan's front yard. She looked at the distant twinkling lights and said a silent prayer for Vinny Cruz, Mayor Poole and the Reagans.

Then she straightened her shoulders and walked with purpose back to her car, grateful to be on her way home.


	46. Palimpsest

_A/N - Here we are in Season 4! (and the introduction of a new character...)_

* * *

Garrett glanced at Jim's desk before saddling up to Abbey's, "He's not in yet?"

"0830." She replied, not looking up from her computer.

Garrett gave a spluttering exhale. "Any chance you want to catch him up to speed with out me?"

She glared at him but he was spared a scathing rebuke by the buzz of her phone.

Pulling it from her pocket she frowned at her mother's number on the screen. She silenced the ring and looked up to Garrett who was watching with interest.

She sighed, "What?"

"Nothing." He shrugged and stepped back. "It's nearly half past; I'm just going to wait."

"That's your prerogative." She answered, turning back to her phone.

She flicked open a message to her mom, _*Srry. Work.*_

A moment later her phone buzzed again, _*Your father and I are just wondering, who is Sal?*_

Sal? She frowned. She didn't know any Sal. Other than….

 _*Why?*_ She typed back.

A moment later her mother replied with a photo.

Abbey zoomed in. It was clearly taken from the porch of her parent's beach house and across the clear blue sky was a plane carrying a banner that displayed, in large red letters, " _Abigail Don't Deny Destiny - Love Sal_ "

"Ohh…What's going on?" Garrett stepped close, practically salivating with interest.

Abbey slammed her phone down. "Nothing."

"Right," He rolled his eyes, "That look on your face definitely says absolutely _nothing_ has you steaming."

She clenched her jaw but the elevator dinged before she could consider telling the DCPI about Suffolk County Deputy Chief Sal Deluca's constant overtures.

She tucked her phone on top of her notebook and stepped around Garrett to meet the PC.

"Good morning Detective!"

His smile was uncharacteristically broad, his face was tanned with hints of red on his nose and a slightly lighter patch on his chin; all indicative of an unshaven week in the sun.

His buoyancy was contagious and she smiled back. "Good morning, Sir. How was your vacation?"

"Excellent!" He tossed Garrett a nod before continuing into his office.

Abbey and Garrett shared an amused look as they followed him.

"Do anything fun?" Garrett asked.

Frank shrugged, "Took the kids out on the boat. Sat on the beach. Swam. Read. Fished. Ate. Drank. Slept. Repeat ."

"Caught some sun." Abbey noted as he removed his sunglasses, revealing more severe tan lines that were only partially obscured when he put on his reading glasses.

He rubbed his chin, "You should see Danny; Poor guy is the color of your shirt." He gestured to Abbey's amaranth blouse. "He's got his grandfather's Irish allergy to the sun."

"I've been there." Abbey smiled as she began unloading the folders from her arms on his desk.

"What do we have?" He watched the paperwork stack up with wary eyes.

"Outside of the rise in substance related and domestic incidents that always come over the 4th of July, it was a pretty quiet week." She kept handing over folders, "The First Deputy kept up with most of the day to day, just a few things for you to sign. The most pressing thing is meeting with the final candidates for the Chief of Department position."

He winced, "That didn't magically get done when I was gone?"

"Sorry Sir, no such luck." She smirked.

"Fine." He gave an exaggerated sigh, "Can we at least try and condense them to one afternoon?"

"You don't want to spread them out? We all know how much you _love_ making hiring decisions." Garrett smirked as Abbey frowned at her calendar, doing some mental Tetris with the schedule.

Frank shot him a look, "Are you here for any particular reason or are just out to step on my good mood?"

Garrett winced, "I'm here for a reason; but it'll won't do much for your mood."

Frank dropped his hands to the desk and glared at him.

Garrett swallowed. "Two things actually."

He fidgeted with his tablet, "First of all, it's likely that this week we'll be hearing a verdict out of Florida in the Trayvon Martin case. We may want a response plan in case it's a 'not-guilty.' There are likely to be demonstrations."

Frank nodded, "Baker, get Deputy Chief Morales on my schedule within the next day or two." He looked back to Garrett with an expectant lift, "You said two things?"

Garrett shifted.

"Out with it." The humor was fast waning from the Commissioner.

Garrett sighed, "This isn't for certain, but my sources say we're not going to like what the judge has to say in the Stop & Frisk decision."

Frank froze and locked eyes with his Deputy. "What does that mean?"

"It means that this particular judge isn't likely to come down on the side of the status quo." Garrett carefully replied.

Frank grimaced, clenching a fist and tapping it on the desk. "When are we expected to know for sure?"

"Probably not until next month." Garrett glanced down at his tablet, "So we have time to keep working on PR and getting the Mayor and the City Council to agree to appeal."

"Poole won't be back full time until after Labor Day at the earliest." Frank reminded.

"Newhouse won't help?" Garrett questioned.

Frank shook his head, "She's ambitious but even she respects the limits of her temporary position. She won't make waves."

Garrett nodded, "So what do we do?"

"Well there's nothing we can do until we hear exactly what the judge has to say." He dropped into his chair, "After that…" He exhaled, "We'll just have to figure it out."

Abbey glanced to Garrett but he just clenched his jaw and returned his attention to whatever was on his screen.

Frank tilted his head, "Anything else?"

"In May you asked about an effort to restore and maintain Police Arlington?" He waited for Frank to nod. "I think we'll going to be able to get some movement on that before the Fall. I just got an email I need to follow up on but it looks like good news."

Frank sombered, "Good. Let me know where we stand when you get confirmation."

"Will do, Boss." Garrett nodded, already dialing as he exited the room.

The Commissioner released a heavy sigh before turning back to Abbey, "I miss anything else?"

Abbey grimaced, "Well, I'm not sure if you would have heard, but Jimmy Luckland passed away the start of last week."

He frowned and looked down, "Was he sick?"

"I don't know." She waited a beat, "I just noticed it in the paper the other morning. The funeral was Saturday."

He sighed, "Well, it's not like I really spoke to the guy in the last 10 years. But it's still unfortunate, he was still relatively young."

Abbey nodded, waiting as the Commissioner spared a moment in reflection.

"Alright…" He looked up, "What's first?"

"Well, you need to sign this stack," She gestured, "And then calls with City Council and a meeting with Fredrickson from parking regarding the UN delegates again." She read aloud. "Oh and personnel has new 5 year projections for you to review."

He raised his eyebrows, frowning when she didn't redact anything. He sighed, "Can I go back on vacation yet?"

* * *

"So glad you're finally coming back out with us!" Lieutenant Anita Williams grinned, embracing Abbey as she entered the back room of the restaurant.

She smiled, "Well, if Brian is going back to his Fantasy Football League every Sunday for the next 4 months I figured it wasn't too much to ask that I come back out with you all for one evening a month."

"Whatever the reason, the PBA Women are happy to have you back." Anita leaned in, "Of course you will be expected to share pictures of that adorable little boy that's kept you away for the last year."

Abbey immediately handed over her phone as soon as they settled at the table and the Lieutenant proceeded to ohh and ahh as she swiped through the digital album.

"Are those pictures of baby-Mike?" Carol-Anne approached to look over Anita's shoulder and soon Abbey was trying to swallow her pride as a small group of women poured compliments over the pictures of her son.

"This is why you need to be on Facebook." Megan gestured.

"Or at least Instagram…" Rachel agreed.

Abbey shook her head, "No way. Not given the office I work in." She pointed to the few Lieutenants and Captains in the group, "Honestly I'm surprised any of you use those sites."

Megan shrugged, "It's just family stuff. I don't even put I'm NYPD on there."

"Me neither," Carol-Anne nodded, "No mention of NYPD, no logos or uniforms in any pictures. Sure fire way to attract trolls."

"Shh." Rebecca gestured, "We have some rookies with us tonight; don't be scaring them off!"

Abbey looked to where Rebecca had indicated. There were 3 young women standing together; a nervous looking tall brunette with closely cropped hair, an African American with tight braids and bold blue eye shadow, and a short blonde whom Abbey never would have pegged as a cop. She wore her hair down and styled, a trim blazer over a trendy top, tight jeans and heels.

The blonde waived off Rebecca's concern, "Don't worry about scaring me off. I was just in the middle of the mess with Officer Collins and Angelo Reid. If anything were going to scare me off the job that would have been it."

Anita exhaled, "That's certainly true." She smiled warmly at the three new comers as she handed Abbey her phone back. "Why don't y'all sit down and relax with us?"

The rookies nodded and slid in to adjacent seats across the table. The short blonde's eyes lingered on Abbey, taking in her up-do and dress.

Abbey smiled back, "You're in the 12th?"

"Hrm?" The blonde tilted her head, "Oh, precinct? Um yes, I am." She grinned, "Were you?"

Abbey shook her head, "No, I never was, but I know some folks there."

"Abbey knows _everyone_." Anita smiled, a hand on Abbey's shoulder, "Definitely a good friend to have."

The rookies' eyes widened in curiosity but Abbey shook her head, "Hardly." She gestured to herself, "I'm just a detective, _Lieutenant._ "

The recently promoted Anita smiled, "You're not 'just' anything, Abbey."

Sergeant Rodriguez interrupted with a tap of her wine glass, calling the table's attention to her, "Hi all, if I can have a moment?"

She smiled, "This may be an informal group but even as more women join the department every year we are still a notable minority and gatherings like this are important in fostering the kind of relationships that provide female cops the support they need to be their most successful."

She looked around the long series of connected tables, "I see some new faces and some that haven't been with us for a while so why don't we go around for some quick introductions? Just rank, name and what house you work out of."

When they got to her, Abbey introduced herself as Detective Abbey Baker from 1PP which garnered impressed looks from two of the new officers but the blonde, who had introduced herself as Officer Edit, call me Eddie, Janko, took in this information with interest.

The 30 some-odd women at the table made it through introductions quickly and the group settled into chatting and passing around appetizer platters.

Eddie leaned over the table, "Detective Baker?"

Abbey held up her hand, "No ranks, its just Abbey."

"Okay, Abbey." She shifted, "You said you work at 1PP?"

"I do." Abbey nodded.

"But you're just a detective…" Eddie gave a flustered wave of her hand, "I don't mean _just_ a detective, because that's great, I want to be a detective someday myself, I just meant that it's a building with a lot of brass and I didn't think many detectives work there…"

Abbey smiled her assurance, "No offense taken." She took a sip of her wine, "But actually, detective is the most common rank in the building. We do a lot of the background work so the bosses can do their jobs."

Eddie shifted, "So, can I ask you for some advice?"

"Sure." Abbey shrugged.

"When you first started there, how did you handle interacting with the top brass?"

Abbey tilted her head, "I'm not sure I follow."

Eddie glanced up and down the table "I have kind of a unique situation I'm not sure how to handle." She lowered her voice and leaned in, "My partner is one of the PC's kids…."

Abbey nodded, "When you mentioned the Collins case I figured that you might be Jamie's new partner."

She exhaled and relaxed, "You know Jamie?"

"I do." Abbey confirmed.

"Okay…" Eddie leaned in again, "So literally my first shift we get called to the 10-13 and end up being first on scene with Collins and Salazar. We went to the hospital and the Commissioner shows up." She shook her head, "I'm less than 5 hours on the job, kind of freaked out because I just saw a cop get shot, and suddenly the Commissioner is telling _me_ that the cop died and Jamie's introducing me to him just like, 'Sir, this is my partner.' as if it were no big deal."

Abbey smiled at the aghast look on Eddie's face.

"I mean, I didn't even know Reagan was one of _those_ Reagans when Sarge told me I'd be riding with him. He doesn't exactly look like his Dad, y'know? But next thing I know the Commissioner is talking directly to me, asking if I'm going back to the scene; as if I had a choice. It wasn't really a conversation, but I'm sure I would have put my foot in my mouth if given much more opportunity." Her eyes were wide.

"And now," She continued, "I can't help but think about it. I mean, Jamie is a SUPER nice guy but it's stressful."

Abbey raised an eyebrow, "How so?"

Eddie shrugged, "I'm just learning how to be a cop and riding with someone who has direct line to the PC is kind of unnerving. It's like what I imagine it would feel like if IA were in the car."

She looked down for a beat, "And I know what it's like to not want to be judged because of who your Dad is so I don't want to do that to him." She looked up with dead seriousness, "I _do_ think he's the kind of cop I want to learn from."

She frowned, "So I was thinking, given where you work, you might have some advice that might help me to not get too stuck in my head about Jamie."

Abbey nodded, "Okay, I think I understand where you're coming from."

She took another sip of her wine to buy herself the time to formulate what she wanted to say. "The first thing you need to know is that riding with a Reagan is definitely not like riding with IA. The family gets along but the boys and PC are pretty strict about not getting involved in one another's work."

She smirked, "Trust me, Jamie isn't calling his Dad at the end of every tour recounting what happened. When you make some typical, rookie mistake it's almost certain that the PC is _not_ going to hear about it."

Eddie exhaled, "That makes me feel better."

"Good." Abbey smiled. "Also, at some point, probably even within the next few days, you're going to be invited to join the family for dinner or a cook out or a ball game; just like every other cop family does so everyone can meet the new partner."

She grinned as Eddie's face blanched in horror.

"So," Abbey continued, "The next, and most, important thing is to use that opportunity to get to know them as well; remember that everyone is just human."

Eddie narrowed her eyes.

"What?" Abbey questioned.

"I thought you said you knew Jamie." She smirked, "'Just human'? The guy is like a poster child for the boy scouts. And from what I've heard, his Dad is cut from the same cloth."

Abbey grinned, "I've worked for Frank Reagan for almost 9 years and I'd be among the first to confirm he's a genuinely good person; but I can promise you he's definitely not perfect…and neither is Jamie."

Eddie's eyes widened, "Wait, you work specifically _for_ the PC?"

"I head the Commissioner's detective squad and serve as his primary aide." Abbey explained.

"Ugh." Eddie hung her head, "What did I tell you about putting my foot in my mouth…"

"Hey…hey…It's okay," Abbey tapped the table until Eddie pulled up her head, "You're talking to me, not him. And I get it…I do." She shrugged, "Being in the orbit of any of the Reagans is a whole thing for a 'regular cop' to deal with."

She tilted her head, making eye contact, "But trust me when I tell you, Jamie and Danny and even the Commissioner are just people doing a job. They're cops, just like you and me."

Eddie listened and nodded, biting the inside of her lip.

Abbey grimaced, trying to lighten Eddie's reality. "Do you know about Jamie's previous partner?" She asked.

Eddie made a face, "Wasn't it Sergeant Renzulli?"

Abbey shook her head, "Renzulli was his partner for the first 2 years and rode with him a bit this past summer, but I'm talking about Jamie's partner for most of last year."

"What?" Eddie tilted her head.

"Do you know the name Officer Cruz?" Abbey offered.

Eddie's eyes went wide, "The guy from the Bitterman Ambush in May? That was _Reagan_ with him?"

Abbey nodded.

Eddie's mouth dropped and she gave a stilted shake of her head, "I had no idea…"

"I thought about it as soon as you said the Commissioner approached you two at the hospital." Abbey looked down into her glass.

Eddie frowned, "I don't get the connection."

"You'll find that most times the Commissioner ignores Jamie when they're in the same room and on duty." She explained, "It's a distance thing. He's adamant about trying to have as minimal interference in his sons' jobs as possible."

"Okay…" Eddie nodded, "So then why'd he come over last week? We were literally the first people he talked to after he spoke with the surgeon."

Abbey gave a small, sad smile, "Jamie was on the scene where another officer was shot and killed just 3 months after loosing his own partner the same way. It's my guess the commissioner was checking in on his son."

She shrugged, "Jamie introducing you was probably his way of signaling that he was fine."

"I wouldn't have caught that at all…" Eddie shook her head, "Neither made a big deal of it."

Abbey nodded, "That's how they do it. Walking that line between family and professionals." She smirked, "Not to mention they're both cops, men and Irish; groups that typically aren't prone to overt displays."

Eddie snickered into her beer.

"What's so funny over here?" Anita elbowed in.

Abbey smiled and gestured to Eddie, "Our new friend here is partnered with the Commissioner's youngest."

Eddie's cheek's flamed and she fidgeted in her chair but Anita's face split into a smile.

"Ohh! Jamie?" She leaned in, "He is _such_ a cutey. You're lucky, my first partner was a 53 year old guy who always smelled like stale tuna. It took me a month to realize it was because he kept tuna sandwiches in his pockets; even in the summer."

Eddie's nose rankled, "Well, we've only been riding together for a week but so far he hasn't done anything like that!"

"He won't," Anita assured, "He's one of the good ones." She sat back, "He didn't deserve what he went through; I'm so glad to hear he'll be riding with you."

Eddie swallowed, "I'm just focused on doing my best right now."

"That's a good plan." The other woman assured, nodding in approval. She tilted her head, "So tell me, Eddie, do you have aspirations for different bureaus or are you looking to stay on the uniform path?"

Abbey let Anita take over discussing the various pros and cons of different opportunities with in the department. She pushed out of her chair and moved down the table to join some other conversations for the remainder of the evening.

As the gathering wound down she caught Eddie heading for the door, "Janko…"

The shorter woman stopped, waiting.

Abbey flicked through her purse and pulled out her business card and scrawled her cell phone number on the back.

"Here." She handed it over, "I'm serious when I say I understand that working with a Reagan carries it's own complications, no matter how hard Jamie is determined to be just a normal cop. Please don't hesitate to reach out, okay?"

Eddie pinned Abbey with a questioning look, "Is this really for my sake or is it for Jamie's?"

Abbey shrugged, impressed by the blunt question, "Why can't it be both?" She smiled.

Eddie smiled, "Okay…"

"In all honesty," Abbey but her lip, "I know from experience that being a young, blonde, female on foot patrol in your rookie year comes with all kinds of frustrations and difficulties. We try to make sure new female officers have access to a mentor to help navigate some of the stuff that comes up. I've never stepped in before but I think we have a lot in common and I can be a resource for you; if you want."

Eddie softened and smiled, slipping the card into her wallet, "Thank you…" she nodded, "I really do appreciate it."

She turned and joined the other rookies heading out the door. Abbey waited until they had exited before releasing a long exhale.

Anita came up next to her, shaking her head and sipping her wine, "So; how you going to let your boss know you have eyes on Jamie's partner?"

"That's not what I'm doing!" Abbey admonished.

"Mmhrm." Anita sipped her drink. "I know how you work. What ever it takes to let the PC do his job; including checking up on his kids' partner so he doesn't need to worry."

Abbey rolled her eyes but eventually relented with a sigh, "Like you said, Jamie went through something terrible last spring…and now he's riding with a rookie."

She shrugged, "Let's just say that it's in the whole department's best interest that Janko have all the resources she needs to become a fantastic cop who can cover her partner's back."


	47. Consanguinity

_A/N - Thank you for everyone's patience and understanding. Here is the real next chapter. The first takes place immediately following 4.3 - To Protect & Serve and the second half takes place after 4.4 - The Truth About Lying and there is minor reference to an event that happens in 4.2 - The City That Never Sleeps._

* * *

Abbey exhaled and looked back at Garrett after the door swung shut behind the Commissioner.

Garrett's mouth hung slightly open. "Think he's heading over there?"

Abbey blinked, "Uh...I suppose." She tried to shrug off her stupor at what they just witnessed, "Did you want to follow him?"

He managed to shut his jaw and gave a stiff head shake. "It's only across the street, I suspect we'll know soon enough."

She tightened her arms around herself and looked back at the screen. Danny was still cradling his sister as an ambulance backed in to the courtyard.

"I can't believe he just sat through that." Garrett shook his head.

Abbey felt a chill run through her, "Can you shut it off now? Please?"

Garrett nodded and stood out of his chair but hesitated before he reached the power button.

"What?" Abbey stepped around him.

From the corner of the frame the Commissioner could be seen running down the courthouse driveway. He stopped just shy of the ambulance, took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and walked the rest of the way in his typical, determined manner.

"I don't think I've ever actually seen him run." Garrett tilted his head, voice awed. He continued to watch as Frank touched Danny's shoulder before moving to Erin's other side and kissing the top of her head and proceeding to help move her onto the EMT's gurney.

"I saw him _almost_ jog once at the football game at a cookout a few years back." She shrugged after a scan of her own memories came up empty for examples of her boss running.

Garrett looked at her with a raised eyebrow, "Frank always plays lineman in those games."

"Danny was trying to run up the center." She smirked. "The PC took him out pretty hard."

Garrett rolled his eyes but returned the smile. He looked back to the screen, "No one is looking to tackle anyone now."

Abbey followed his attention. The Commissioner was holding his daughter's bloody hand and standing with his shoulder touching Danny's as the EMTs tended to Erin's injury.

Abbey swallowed and turned away from the monitor. She stepped around the desk and began sorting through the folders on top.

"What are you doing?" Garrett turned to watch her.

She gestured to the TV, "He's not coming back in today. Some of this will have to get to the house for him to look at over the weekend."

Garrett exhaled and finally reached out to turn off the screen. "It's always something."

He stood on the other side of the desk and shifted his weight, "Anything I can do to help?"

Abbey shook her head, not looking up.

"'kay…" Garrett nodded, tapping on the other side of the desktop. He frowned, and looked around the room. "You were good with the debate prep." He tried casually, "I may have to ask you to play opposition more often."

"If I have the time." She replied in monotone, gathering the folders as well as the Commissioner's briefcase and heading back to her desk.

Garrett pursed his lips and followed her out the door, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She bit out, sitting at her desk and pulling up the PC's calendar.

"Baker…" Garrett, leaned against her desk.

She sighed and looked up with an impatient glare.

Garrett shook his head, "Let me try again, _what's wrong_?"

He jaw clenched, "Nothing is wrong. Nothing." She looked back to her computer screen and clicked the PC status to 'out-of-the-office' and cleared off the balance of his itinerary. "This is what happens; something crazy goes on which upends everything and pulls the boss away and then it's my job to sweep everything up."

She gestured sharply in the direction of the office, "We just sat and did nothing for an hour while we watched Erin hold it together under the gun of a mad man and then Danny jump in to save his sister. So now I am going to clear the calendar and sort what folders can wait until Monday and which ones shouldn't."

She ground her teeth and looked vexing to Garrett, "Like you said, it's always something."

She exhaled and kept her eyes averted as she dumped the folders and briefcase into a file box and shouldered around Garrett, leaving him staring after her as she left the office.

* * *

The drive to Brooklyn did little to clear the tension from her mind.

Climbing the final three brick steps Abbey ignored the doorbell in favor of knocking on the heavy wooden door.

She shifted her grip on the box in her hands as the door pulled open.

"Detective." Linda Reagan greeted, "Can't say I was expecting you."

Abbey tried to smile, "Honestly, I could say the same."

Linda gestured over her shoulder, "Henry's in the garage with the boys, fitting them for fishing rods." She rolled her eyes before stepping back, "Please, come in."

Abbey stepped in, waiting in the entryway as Linda shut the door before leading the way to the kitchen.

"So what's all this?" She gestured to the box Abbey lowered to the table.

She grimaced, "Have you heard from Danny this afternoon?"

Linda's demeanor turned serious, "About Erin?" She nodded, "That's why we're here. The boys are going to stay with Henry so I can go pick up Nicky in about an hour." She rolled her eyes, "It's always something with this family."

Abbey frowned, "Certainly seems that way."

Linda's eyes looked her over, "Can I get you something? I just put on the kettle."

Abbey nodded, "Thank you, that would actually be good."

"Sure thing." Linda smiled.

Abbey shifted as Linda pulled out a second mug, "Did Danny say anything about how Erin's doing?"

"She's going to be fine." Linda assured, pouring the water and handing over the mug, "Doctor says on first glance that she'll probably be good to go tomorrow morning at the latest."

"Good." Abbey exhaled, accepting the warm drink with two hands. "Good."

Linda's eyebrows tightened in question but she softened and looked back to the box, "So what's this all?"

"The Commissioner had a lot on his plate for the afternoon." Abbey gestured, "I thought he might want some things available to go over during the weekend."

Linda frowned and glanced in to the box, "Do you really think that's necessary?"

Abbey leaned back, "What?"

"I just mean, did he _ask_ for these?" Linda wrapped her arms around herself, "Will it really be the end of the world if he starts next week behind a few reports?"

Abbey swallowed, "Um…I don't…I mean…I just thought…"

She put down the mug and blinked at Linda.

The other woman sighed, "It's okay, I didn't mean to accuse you, it's just; his _daughter_ was just shot. Maybe for once he doesn't need to be squeezing in work over the weekend." She tilted her head, "You know what I'm saying?"

Abbey bit her lip, "I didn't know what he'd want. He just left without saying anything." She winced, "I thought I'd at least give him the option and assumed he'd want his briefcase."

Linda nodded, "I can understand the wanting to do something productive after something like this." She smiled, "And I appreciate you coming out here, at the very least that will keep him from heading in to the office over the weekend…" She looked at the box, "But if it's here, he's going to work on it."

Abbey glanced at the box as well, frowning. She looked back to Linda and sighed.

"What if I left one or two things?" She began flipping through the folders, "If Erin really is going to be okay she's going want some personal space. Some distraction might be good for everyone."

Linda paused, eyes narrowing before she nodded, "You're probably right on that." She lifted her chin, watching the folders under Abbey's fingers, "But best make it something that it's okay if he misses something. Chances are it won't get his full attention."

"I have just the things." She pulled out three slim files. "Recommendations that really just need a signature upon review."

"Perfect." Linda approved.

Abbey removed the rest of the box from the table, leaving the three files in its place.

She looked back to Linda who was fidgeting with the pendant on her necklace as she sipped her drink.

"I don't suppose Danny told you that he saved Erin?" Abbey tilted her head.

Linda released her pendant, refocusing on her, "No, off course not." She sighed heavily.

Abbey frown, taken aback by Linda's exhausted reaction, "Well, he did. It was impressive; TARU had set up a live feed to the Commissioner's office and we watched it play out."

"Frank watched everything?" Linda winced.

Abbey shook her head, "Not everything. Erin had already been shot by the time the feed was set up."

"These Reagan's…" Linda muttered.

Abbey raised an eyebrow.

Linda exhaled and raised a palm, "Just tell me this, did Danny get injured at all himself?"

"He is definitely not injured." Abbey replied slowly.

Linda looked into her drink and nodded, "Good. I don't need to know anything else."

"You don't want to know how he saved her?" Abbey tilted her head.

"No." Linda confirmed. "I know he's out there and I know things are going to happen but sometimes…" She looked to Abbey and smiled, "I'm a nurse, not a cop. I just need to know what state everyone is coming home in at the end of the day and whether or not Sunday dinner needs to be comfort food."

"I don't want to know every little detail." She shrugged, "I'm only a Reagan by marriage; It's too much and it happens too often to members of this family."

Slowly, Abbey allowed for a smile to spread across her face, "The Reagans on the job do seem to run into trouble with an alarming frequency."

"Exactly." Linda nodded. "You know, Erin being shot means that all of them have been shot because of the job?" She shook her head, "I mean, Jamie was, thank God, just in the vest, and Danny's was really minor, years ago…but Danny, Joe, Frank, Jamie and Erin. I think even Henry was shot back in his days on the street. Six Reagans in law enforcement, six Reagans shot."

"Doesn't seem right." Abbey's shoulders stooped, "A family that's willing to give so much to service shouldn't have to keep facing this kind of thing."

"It's not healthy for anyone." Linda nodded, "It's stressful wondering what will come next and stress has real, physical complications that compound over time." She shrugged, "I worry about my boys growing up with constant wonder about which one of their family members will be hurt next. Erin was supposed to be the one with the safe job."

She gestured to Abbey, "And it's why I get concerned about Frank. He didn't really need to sit and watch video of Erin being held hostage, did he? He's just feeding his subconscious images that will fuel his worry and would give any father nightmares. It's not good."

"No, I wouldn't imagine it is." Abbey nodded.

Linda tilted her head, "What about you? You've been as close to everything as the rest of us."

"Me?" Abbey shook her head, "I'm just doing my job; the Commissioner is just my boss."

"That's bull and you know it." Linda rebuked, "Frank is _'just'_ your boss the same way he's _just_ my father-in-law; it might be technically true but you and I both know it's not the whole story."

Abbey fidgeted and looked down.

Linda tossed up her hands, "Nearly 15 years with Danny Reagan and I still don't think I'll ever really understand you cops."

Abbey grimaced, but her self-defense was interrupted by the buzz of her phone.

She pulled it out and pursed her lips as she considered the text message.

 _*Det – It's Sam Stiles; Terrance's brother.*_

She had been in the academy with Terrance, she remembered his brother well. If she remembered correctly, last she had seen Terry he mentioned Sam was currently a desk Sergeant for the 65th.

 _*I remember you Sgt – whats up?*_

 _*Heard the PCs daughter was shot. Is she ok?*_

Abbey frowned. It wasn't unusual for old acquaintances to ask her direct questions trying to get to the truth about things going on with the PC and the department but usually there was some kind of clear connection and she wasn't aware that either of the Stiles knew any of the Reagans.

 _*Scary afternoon but it looks like she will be fine*_

 _*Plz let the PC know us at the 65 will do whatever he might need.*_

"What?" Linda was craning her neck to look at the screen, "You've got a funny look on your face."

Abbey looked back up, "Do you know if the Commissioner has any relationship with the 65th precinct?"

* * *

It took a game of phone chain between Abbey, Terry and Sam and a little over a week but eventually she figured she had part of the puzzle as to why the 65th felt compelled to reach out to show their support; but she hadn't yet had the opportunity to confirm it with the PC himself.

The whole situation with the arrival of the Inspector General and her immediate targeting of Officer Janko had left the PC irritable and not exactly in the kind of mood where she wanted to go looking for conversation so the issue remained dormant.

She heard the elevator bell ding followed shortly by Garrett's voice " _'Today, at this press conference, on this matter..'_ " He was reciting in a deeper, mocking tone as he followed the PC.

The Commissioner rolled his eyes and gave Abbey a head tilt as they passed. She grabbed her notebook and followed the two men into the office as Garrett continued.

"Seriously, Frank. How many qualifiers can you squeeze into an answer?"

"Apparently that many." He retorted. "Besides, what's your problem? Last I checked you didn't want me to be supportive of her."

"That's not what I said." Garrett sighed.

Abbey held her notebook close to her chest and glanced between the two men, waiting for a break in their usual persiflage.

"That's right, you just wanted me to stage a full scale intimidation." Frank snapped.

Garrett rolled his eyes, "Why are you fighting me on this? Neither one of us think the judge was right and neither one of us like that the politicians of this state think this department needs a nanny to make sure we stay within the lines."

"Right." Frank nodded.

"Right!" Garrett shot back.

"…Okay." Frank deflated.

"Alright then." Garrett rolled his eyes and sat in one of the visitor chairs, "We can move on now?"

Frank narrowed his eyes, "Please." He sat in his own chair and gestured for Abbey to take the a seat as well.

Garrett turned in her direction, "We just got word that the President will be coming to town in May."

"He'll be part of the ceremony greeting the parade of ships for Fleet Week." Frank elaborated, "And apparently staying for a show that evening."

"Okay." Abbey began making notes, "Do we have anything else?"

Frank shook his head, "No. I'm leaving it to you to get together with the advance team. Once you have more get it to Chief Wallace's desk. We're lucky to have this much lead time. Be sure to copy the chief of Department in on the initial memo."

"Yes, sir." She was making her notes when the office door opened without a knock.

She turned in time to see Danny stick his head in, "Sorry, Baker wasn't out here…Oh, hi Detective."

"Detective." She nodded in return before looking back at the Commissioner.

"Detective." He echoed, "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Danny stepped fully into the office, sparing the moment to watch the door swing closed behind him. He glanced at Abbey and Garrett.

Frank frowned, "Everything alright? You need to talk in private?"

"No. No, nothing like that. Everything's fine." He shook his head. "I just, uh…well it's after 5, was wondering if you were done for the day, if you wanted to maybe grab a drink?"

Frank stared back at his son for a long moment and Abbey watched as the silence got to Danny and he began adjusting his stance and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"What's going on Danny?" Frank pinned him.

Danny made an exaggerated show of rolling his eyes and smiling, "Nothing…geeze a guy can't even ask his old man out for a drink without the third degree?"

"It's not that you _can't_." Frank corrected, "It's that _you_ don't." He shrugged, "Your sister comes by all the time, but when's the last time you just _happened_ to swing by?"

Danny shifted and pulled out his hands, rubbing his palms together before he pointed at his father, "Well, see, that's just it."

Frank raised an eyebrow.

"You asked me for a drink and offered to buy back when I was chasing Delgado a couple weeks back, but it was all a rouse. You just got me a ginger ale and sent me back to work chasing the Feds."

"And I paid for that ginger ale." Frank smirked. "You really trying to tell me that you came all the way down here to claim some kind of drink voucher when you drink my booze for free every weekend?" He tilted his head and leaned back in his chair.

Danny tensed, mouth half open, visibly considering his response. His eyes flicked back to the non-Reagans in the room before he exhaled and dropped his hands to his sides.

"I just wrapped a case and the way it went down just made me think to ask you for a drink." He shrugged. "Or not. We could go down to the docks; watch the boats, see if the retirees caught anything good today?" His hands disappeared back into his pockets. "What ever you want."

Frank's face softened, his finger resting on his lips as he listened to Danny. He dropped his hand, "What was the case?"

"If you don't want to, just say so…" Danny tightened.

"I didn't say anything other than ask what was the case you just wrapped." Frank repeated. "Detective…?" He prodded.

Danny sighed and looked out the window, "A girl jumped in front of a train because her brother was harassing her for having a relationship with another girl in her class."

Frank frowned, but remained quiet.

Danny's eyes moved around the room, "When we went to confront the brother he held a knife to his throat. I had to talk him down."

He made brief eye contact with his father before looking down at his feet and mumbling, "I got him to stop by pointing out how much his dad was already hurting over Amy's death and that David could only either help or hurt."

Frank took a long, slow breath, taking equally long to exhale as his eyes traced over his son standing in the middle of the room.

Danny pulled his eyes up and tried a casual shrug, "C'mon Pop; come out with me?" He glanced at the media folder in Garrett's hands. "I'm sure you need it after dealing with the Inspector General all week."

Frank gave a sharp puff and arched his eyebrows as he shook his head.

"That bad, eh?" Danny smiled and stepped closer, looking to Garrett, "You guys put her through her paces?"

"You obviously missed the press conference." Garrett smirked.

"I heard it on the way over." Danny nodded, "You got her to drop her attack on Janko." He looked to the PC, "How'd you do that, Dad? Tell her she isn't a cop and shouldn't judge what she has no business judging?"

Frank tilted his head, a thin smile growing, "Something like that."

"Really?" Danny blinked.

"Really." Frank nodded. "You know, she's actually not a bad shot."

"You went shooting?" Danny's brow knitted together and he looked to Abbey for confirmation.

Abbey shook her head, deferring to the PC for the explanation.

"Gave her a chance in the live scenario simulator." Frank smirked.

Danny straightened, "The whole bit? Gave her the quiz after?"

"Which she failed." Frank gave a single nod.

Danny sniggered and nodded, "I gotta say, I'm kind of surprised that worked."

"Me too." Frank admitted, "Turns out she's a pretty good sport."

"So what, you like her now?" Danny smirked.

"I didn't say that." Frank corrected. "The lunch we had together was the most awkward since taking this office, she's antagonistic and a righteous smart-ass and I still resent the fact her position even exists." He smirked, "But I won't deny having a little fun watching Harley and his crew try to take her out, and I was impressed how she handled herself and she eventually made the right decision."

"Because it was the decision you wanted her to make." Danny pointed out.

"Of course." Frank smiled, "You should know by now that I'm always right."

"Yeah. Right." Danny smirked.

The two men smiled at one another for a beat before Danny clapped his hands together, "So, what do you say? Unwind by buying your favorite Detective a drink?"

Frank frowned, "I don't know, Detective Baker has a family to get home to. It's hardly fair to keep her late just for a drink."

Abbey smirked and looked up to Danny who rolled his eyes, "Har, Har, Har." He looked to Abbey, "Not that I necessarily blame him, you're usually a lot nicer than I am."

He looked back to his Dad, "Really. Do you need to stick around or can you come out with me?"

Frank glanced to Abbey, "We taken care of everything?"

"It's never _everything_." She smiled, "But there's nothing left that can't wait until tomorrow."

He nodded and looked back to his son, "Well, I suppose I should be grateful that _my_ son spends his time _saving_ his sister instead of harassing her; perhaps you have earned yourself a drink."

Danny smiled and nodded, "Good."

"You want to check in on your brother and sister?" Frank asked as he closed the folder on his desk and stood.

Danny shook his head, "Jamie's working overtime to try and make up for the shifts he missed on suspension and Erin says she has a date."

Frank paused and pursed his lips, "A date? Do we know with whom?"

"Nope." Danny grinned, "I try really hard to not know what's going on in my sister's love life."

Frank narrowed his eyes but relented with a sigh, "Alright, alright."

He stood from the desk and gestured for everyone to lead the way out the door, "Garrett, Baker, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sir…" Abbey spoke up, thinking this was as good a time as any, "All this discussion of buying drinks reminded me; I wonder if you could clarify a rumor for me?"

He stilled in front of her, holding the door open, "Shoot."

She smiled, "Is it true that you randomly bought a round for everyone in a cop bar in the East Village a couple weeks ago?"

A strange smile grew on the Commissioner's face. Danny frowned and looked between Abbey and his Dad as she blinked in confused anticipation.

The Commissioner's smile grew into a smirk, "Well Detective, maybe I did, maybe I didn't."

She frowned and he shrugged, ushering her out the door.

He stood in front of her desk and shrugged,"Maybe you just need to get out more and one of these days the Commissioner may buy you a drink too."

She opened her mouth, completely complexed.

He bounced his eyebrows,"Have a good night Detective!" He then turned to Danny, "Alright, where are we going?" as they walked around the corner.

Abbey shook off her confusion and smiled. Linda was right, there was a lot of stress in the Reagan's daily lives; but even if Linda didn't always understand the cops in her family, at least they seemed to understand, and know how to be there for, one another.


	48. Rectitude

_A/N - This takes place shortly after Episode 4.6 Growing Boys_

* * *

Abbey drummed her fingers on her arm and exhaled as she checked her watch for the 4th time.

She approached the clerk window, "Excuse me…"

The middle aged woman in a purple blouse on the other side of the desk raised an eyebrow.

Abbey sighed, "All I need is the marked up budget and projections draft."

"So you've said." The woman looked back with intense disinterest.

"And yet in the last 10 minutes you've made no move to retrieve the binder." She glared.

"Because it's already in use." The woman shrugged.

Abbey's jaw hung open as she fought the instinct to strangle the uncooperative woman. "And you couldn't have mentioned that?"

The clock-watcher shrugged again, "You didn't say when you needed it. It'll be back."

"Alright…" Abbey breathed out, reigning in her rising temper, "The original binder can't leave city hall property, right? Where is the person who took it out?"

The woman raised an eyebrow and gestured down the hall.

Abbey shook her head, "Thanks so very much for all your help." She snarked before heading out of the small alcove in the direction of the 4th floor copy room.

As she turned the corner she hesitated, taking in the only person in the room. The short, dark haired woman was manning the copy machine while simultaneously reviewing something on stapled papers, gold rimmed Dolce & Gabbana reading glasses low on her nose.

Abbey internalized her sigh and stepped in. Kelly Peterson looked up at the clacking of Abbey's heels. After a second her face reflected recognition, "Hello Detective…?"

"Baker." Abbey finished for her.

"Right, Detective Baker." The Inspector General nodded, "Abigail, right?"

"Yes." Abbey nodded.

"Were you looking for me?" She pulled off her glasses, holding them in the same hand as the papers she had been reading.

"Actually, just the document you're copying." She gestured to the binder on the copier. "The budget mark up."

Kelley looked back to the document, "Ah." She looked back, "Let me guess, your boss is actually going ahead with trying to involve the housing authority with the Juvenile Robbery Intervention Program and wants to review the most recent numbers?"

Abbey crossed her arms, "I'm not sure why the Commissioner asked for the information he did, Ma'am."

Kelly narrowed her eyes and Abbey had the distinct feeling of being sized up.

Abbey resisted the instinct to shift under the gaze of the diminutive woman. She looked back to the copier, "There are only a few specific sections I need to pull, if you haven't reached them yet would it be possible to make two collations of those sections?"

Kelly shrugged, "If you know how to do that, be my guest. I had to get the janitor to show me how to turn this damn thing on."

Abbey pursed her lips but stepped around her and paused the machine, flipped through the pages, fidgeted with a few buttons and reset the machine to begin copying again, this time producing two sets.

She stepped back to see Kelly's eyes on her.

"You've got that thing figured out." She praised.

Abbey shrugged, "Comes with the job."

"Mhrm." Kelly nodded. "I would have figured you had people to handle the copying for you."

"I would have thought the same of you." Abbey returned.

"Most times." Kelly acknowledged. "Sometimes it's best to just do it myself."

"Same." Abbey agreed.

Kelly nodded. She glanced at the paper in her hand but kept it down at her side and leaned against the one of the worktables in the room.

With the whirring of the copy machine the only sound in the small room Abbey gave into the impulse to fill the silence between them, "Would be so bad if he was?"

"Was what?" Kelly frowned.

"Expanding J-RIP to include optional relocation assistance for those in subsidized housing."

Kelly chest rose as she took in a deep breath, again considering Abbey with her eyes. "So he _did_ send you down here to needle me."

"Not at all." Abbey shook her head, "I was just trying to make conversation." She muttered and looked away, mindlessly reading the federal labor law posters on the wall.

"You don't like me." Kelly pulled back Abbey's attention with a definitive tone and amused smirk.

Abbey rolled her eyes, ready to deny it but something in the Inspector General's look had her squaring her shoulders, "I have no opinion of you personally. I don't know you. What I do know is that the very existence of your position is essentially a vote of no confidence for the office I work in."

Kelly's raised her eyebrows and released a huff, "No wonder you and Reagan get along."

"What's that mean?" Abbey straightened, feeling defensive.

"Nothing." The other woman waived off. "And it's not a vote of no confidence in you or your boss."

"No?" Abbey crossed her arms.

"No." Kelly intoned. She tilted her head and her attempt at a friendly smile gave way to a sigh, "Look at the world Detective. It's the age of cell phone cameras and social media and Trayvon Martin and Schoolcraft and voters playing armchair quarterback on NYPD policies during mayoral elections. It's not the 1950s or September 2001 anymore."

"I know that." Abbey shot back, "And I'm even willing to acknowledge there are issues with some bad apples and that all this social media and camera attention had brought justified attention to some _nation-wide_ issues that we need to do a better job addressing as a community."

She shook her head, "But it feels like we've gone full 180; as cops we don't need to be revered heroes just for wearing the uniform but we shouldn't be demonized for it either." She took in a frustrated breath, "At the very least we should be able to expect a modicum of trust from the politicians who know how complicated our job is and given the opportunity to amend procedure without adding more bureaucracy."

Kelly listened with patience but she shook her head, "You know it wasn't the politicians, it was a judge who said that there was a pattern of abuse within the department when it came to stop and frisk."

"So they have to hire someone else to keep us in line instead of saying _'Look at this evidence of a problem. Commissioners, Chiefs and Deputies; it's on you to fix it.'_? If that's not a vote of no confidence then I don't know what is."

There had been a rising level of disgust and frustration within Abbey that had building since the first time Reverend Potter had ginned up some fake controversy about the Commissioner and the department. Every week now there was a website or a video or a photo out of context and some new group protesting outside of the office.

She allowed the years of indignation to seep into her tone.

For her part, Kelly seemed to hear the context and softened. She put down the papers that she had been holding and stepped forward from her leaning position against the table.

"Look, you respect your boss, that's great. But he has a very particular way of looking at the world."

Abbey began to open her mouth but Kelly silenced her with an upheld palm and a look.

"I think his reputation as a man of integrity is well earned," She acknowledged with earnestness, " _But_ there are some places where loyalty to the department and backing his men has created blinders where the greater good is concerned. My job is to help navigate around those blind spots."

Abbey shook her head, "The _greater good,_ for people of this city, is Frank Reagan's _number one_ concern." She clenched her jaw, "As should be evidenced by the fact that even though he's spent a lifetime as a cop and could understandably want to lock up every perp, instead, he's somehow _not_ completely cynical and still thinks that young gang members can be redirected through a mentorship program."

She pointed at Kelly, "A program that has shown effective results for the young people involved and their communities, yet, you're standing in the way because of what? Line items on a budget?" She crossed her arms, "So now, instead of reviewing the training programs and researching alternative methods for getting guns off the street, the Police Commissioner is planning on using his evenings this week to sort through the city budget because he needs to justify the costs of a perfectly good and effective program to people like you." She looked away, "It used to be that the opinion of the man in his position carried some weight instead of automatic suspicion of ulterior motive."

Kelly blinked and took a half step back, "It would seem I've struck a nerve."

"Apparently so." Abbey didn't bother to deny it, staring back at the shorter woman.

Kelly gave a half shake of her head, " _Someone_ has to be concerned about the budget and the repercussions on all the other things that happen in this city outside of the NYPD."

She smiled again, "It's not that Frank's opinion doesn't carry weight; one of the reasons this is so hard is _because_ of the immense respect everyone, including myself, have for him. It's just that his bullheaded defense of J-RIP already seemed so out of character; this added housing twist just takes it further."

She sighed, "I know his son is one of the mentors in the program and is part of this most recent case but he can't let that be a factor when deciding on how to handle this."

Abbey looked away and shook her head, "You have no idea." She muttered.

"What?" Kelly tilted her head.

"This isn't about Jamie. The PC was in support of the program before Jamie even signed up as a mentor. " Abbey gestured broadly, "You'd know that none of this is out of character if you knew _him_."

Kelly blinked, "And I don't?"

"Are you claiming that you do?" Abbey stared back, unflinching.

The two women locked eye for a long moment before Kelly looked away first.

"No, I suppose not." She admitted.

Abbey took a calming breath in through her nose before exhaling and moving to the copier.

She kept her back to Kelly as she cleared the tray of the copies that had already been made and preceded to put them through the three-hole punch.

Kelly remained in the center of the room, watching Abbey with new interest, "Does Reagan know he has such a staunch defender in you?" She gave a sarcastic smirk, "Does his wife?"

Abbey froze before looking over her shoulder, "What on _earth_ are you talking about?"

"Nothing." Kelly waived off, "Forget I said it. Just being a wiseass."

Abbey turned back to her stack of paper, "The Commissioner knows he and I are on the same page with this." She grimaced, "And his wife died years ago."

"Oh." Kelly straightened and frowned. "I didn't know."

"Right." Abbey nodded, still not looking up. "Ms. Peterson, you seem to be a smart woman but there is a lot you don't know about the department, and the Commissioner, and what it is we're all trying to do here."

She turned around, "Making assumptions can only hurt. Your assumptions about the Commissioner's priorities have the potential to undermine a really good program. One, which by the way, is one of the few programs that that fosters a positive relationship between the NYPD and minority and underserved communities." She tilted her head, "Which you yourself pointed out is a bit of a hot point at the moment."

Kelly leaned her head back, eyeing Abbey with consideration. She relaxed and gave a succession of short nods as she backed up to again lean against the other worktable.

"You know, your boss warned me about the defenders of the NYPD. Called them 'Legion.'" She looked off with a reminiscent smile before refocusing on Abbey, "I'm really not trying to be your enemy."

"You're certainly not acting like an alley." Abbey tilted her head.

Kelly sighed, "I really can't be." She looked around the room, a hint of frustration tensing her lips, "The definition of my position is to fall somewhere between adversarial at worst, neutral at best."

Abbey allowed herself to deflate slightly with a sigh, "That could be a difficult position."

"It is." The older woman agreed with a sober nod.

Abbey took the opportunity to look her over. Kelly's back was steel straight and her chin held firm, but in this instance, her shoulders held a slight stoop and the florescent lights and white washed walls of the copy room highlighted the paleness of her features and the exhaustion in her eyes.

Abbey relaxed further, leaning back against her own table. "Why did you accept the position to begin with?"

Kelly pushed her hair behind an ear and gave a one-shouldered shrug, "Because I respect the NYPD and I like working with good people." She met Abbey's eyes, "I heard there were good people at 1PP."

She paused, "If I do my job right maybe I can be part of the solution that helps rehabilitate whatever negative impact has been afflicted to the department by this whole stop and frisk _thing_."

Abbey smirked, "That doesn't sound too neutral to me."

"What can I say?" Kelly returned with a resigned smile, "Nobody's perfect."

The copier finally finished it's rhythmic racket and the final papers emptied into the tray.

Abbey collected them with the others, punched the holes and put aside the stack for the Inspector General, separate from the stack she'd return to 1PP with.

Kelly watched her, lips pursed, "Is the Commissioner still in his office?"

"Should be." Abbey nodded, "Probably until pretty late tonight."

She nodded, "Thank you Detective." She held out a hand, "This was…enlightening."

Abbey blinked and knitted her eyebrows but returned the handshake.

When she returned to the office she grabbed an empty binder from the shelf, dropped in the fresh copies and knocked on the Commissioner's door.

"…she said?" Garrett was in the middle of asking.

"No." The Commissioner looked to Abbey as she entered, "But why don't we ask her?"

She stopped short, glancing between the two men, uncertain what she just walked into.

Garrett smiled, "Have a pleasant visit to City Hall?"

She narrowed her eyes, but didn't respond, just turned to the Commissioner with a raised eyebrow.

He pulsed a thin smile and gestured to his phone, "I received an interesting call from the Inspector General just before you arrived."

"Oh?" Abbey managed as her mind sped through their recent exchange. Something about the other woman had managed to get under her skin and she knew she probably had said more than she should. She clenched her jaw and focused on keeping her expression neutral.

"Yes." The PC nodded, "She suggested we meet up this evening. That perhaps we could work out a compromise where the JRIP is concerned; something we could jointly agree upon presenting to the city council."

Her face slacked, "Really?"

"Really." He nodded.

He leaned back in his chair, propping an elbow on the armrest and resting his chin on his thumb. "When I asked her what changed her mind she was quick to qualify it hasn't changed yet but that she had just had an interesting conversation with you."

"Me?" Abbey repeated, mind numb.

"You did see the Inspector General when you were there, didn't you?" Garrett asked, smiling at her befuddlement.

Abbey nodded, "Yeah, um. Yes." She looked back to the Commissioner, "She needed copies of the budget too."

"Apparently, you were insightful and articulate." He explained with a smirk, "She's been inspired to consider that perhaps she was over simplifying the situation and a middle ground might be possible."

Abbey's felt her eyes widen and her jaw hang open. "Oh."

Frank smiled and dropped his hand, "Alright, Detective, what did you say to her?"

"Sir?" She swallowed, still holding tightly to the binder in her hands.

He held open his hands, "I've been on this since Thursday and have gotten _nowhere_. The only time in the past month I've managed to get her on my side of _any_ issue was after running her through a live action scenario." He shook his head, "You spend all of 5 minutes in a room with her and suddenly she's back tracking her hardline stance."

He leaned forward, "What's the magic word?"

Abbey felt a smile push at the edge of her lips, chest swelling with pride; but she bit on the inside of her cheek and remained steady. "I may have just warned her against making assumptions."

"That's it?" Garrett's eyebrows rose in disbelief.

"Pretty much." She shrugged.

The Commissioner leaned back again, looking her over.

She refused to break under his gaze and clenched her teeth together, hard.

"Alright." He relented with a smile, "That the budget?" He held out his hand and gestured for the binder. She stepped forward but as she handed over the binder he didn't take it right away, forcing her to stand close.

"You know that _I_ know you're holding back?" His eyes locked with hers.

She swallowed and forced a smile, "I don't know what you're talking about...Sir"

"Mhrm…" He narrowed his eyes, finally taking the binder from her hands with a smirk. "Next time I have to go against the mayor I'm sending _you_ in my place."

"No thank you." She smiled.

He looked her over one last time and exhaled a shrug, "Okay." He glanced at his watch, "I think she's coming here around 7, could you order in some food?"

"Of course." Abbey nodded, "Anywhere in particular?"

"Just not Indian." Frank shook his head, "Nicky ordered some when I stayed over the weekend. I need a curry break."

Abbey grinned, "Noted."

He sighed and gestured to the binder, "Apparently I have some quick cramming to do if I'm to make use of this window of opportunity."

Garrett and Abbey nodded in sync and began back to the door.

"Abigail." Frank called out, halting her in her tracks.

She looked back to him with wide eyes.

He smiled a small, but sincere smile, "Good work."

"Thank you Commissioner." She smiled back before leaving the room and waiting until the door closed behind her to release the breath she had been holding.


	49. Bedevilment

_A/N - First portion takes place after 4.9 - Bad Blood (They reference 4.3 - To Protect & Serve again) and the second portion of the chapter takes place after 4.12 - The Bogeyman_

* * *

"You look better than I expected." Abbey tried to keep her grin light as Eddie settled onto the stool next to her.

The younger woman shook her head, "I heal fast and buy good makeup. Trust me, four days ago? Not a pretty sight."

Abbey winced, "Well I'm buying. What will you have?"

"Just a beer. Something weak." She put her elbows on the bar top and glanced around the bustling sports bar, "I've never been here."

Abbey shrugged as she flagged down the bartender and ordered their drinks. "It's owned by a cousin of someone I work with." She smirked, "No one you know."

Eddie smiled briefly but then shifted on her stool, eyes downcast.

"What?"

Eddie cringed, "How'd you know? …about my incident. Did Jamie tell you?"

Abbey shook her head sympathetically, "Janko, I haven't spoken with your partner since May."

Eddie frowned, "Then how..."

"Personnel tracks whenever an officer is involved in an NYC court case." She shrugged, "Occasionally it raises red flags on officers who have been dealing with domestic situations or drugs. I scan through because the PC needs notification if a case should have departmental repercussions." She smiled, "No such notification was needed in your case; but I thought it might be worth checking in with you myself."

Eddie nodded, processing as she accepted her beer.

Abbey tilted her head, "You want to talk about it?"

"Honestly?" Eddie looked back, "Not really. Jamie made me tell him. He pushed until I vented and then he encouraged me to press charges. I've done what I need to do and now I just want to move on."

"How you plan on doing that?" Abbey asked evenly between sips of her own drinl.

Janko's head snapped up.

"What do you mean 'how'? By just...moving on." She crinkled her brow.

Abbey nodded slowly, wetting her lips, "Can I suggest something?"

"It's not a shrink, is it?" Eddie joked, "Because I am serious, Reagan is Mr. Heart-on-His-Sleeve and I don't think I could handle more talking."

Abbey smiled, "I was thinking the opposite, actually."

Eddie's eyebrows rose.

Abbey exhaled through her nose, "Look, without getting into too many details; I have first hand experience with what you dealt with."

The other woman's eyes widened.

"It was a classmate from the academy." Abbey looked in her beer, "A bunch of us went out the night before an off day and he walked me home." She looked back, "I probably should have picked up on his intentions earlier, but I didn't."

She shook her head, "It bothered me I couldn't better defend myself. I thought if even after 5 months I couldn't handle something like that maybe I wasn't meant to be a cop. I had worked so hard to get the guys to see me as an equal and I feared it could all be wasted."

She looked at Eddie who had appeared to shrink into herself, becoming even smaller than normal as her eyes grew wide. "So...how did you get over that?"

A slow smile spread over Abbey's face, "Hand to hand courses."

"Oh." Disappointment clouded Eddie's reaction.

"Don't dismiss it." Abbey chastised, "You know Sergeant Otto at the academy?"

Eddie nodded.

"He's a former MARSOC; Marine Special Forces." Abbey explained, "He runs private, advanced hand-to-hand classes tailored for women and smaller men and teens. He gives big discounts to NYPD taking the training on their own time and it's way more advanced than anything the department offers."

"Really?" Eddie straightened, considering it.

Abbey shrugged, "I don't know how your career is going to pan out, but this may not be the last time you're in an enclosed space with someone who is bigger and stronger than you." She tried to transmit as much earnesty as possible, "I don't want to over dramatize it, but your life and your partner's life might be on the line next time."

She smiled, "And it's way more enjoyable to rebuild confidence by throwing punches at a marine than it is sitting in a psychiatrist office."

Eddie grinned, "It actually does sound interesting. Maybe I'll look in to that."

Abbey sipped her beer, covering her relief at Eddie's quick buy-in.

"I guess this whole thing just made me really thankful for Jamie." Eddie continued, not picking up on her companion's pause.

"How so?" Abbey looked back in Eddie's direction.

The officer shrugged one shoulder, "He really was just supportive. I mean, he pissed me off because he wouldn't back off…but he really didn't make any assumptions…something I know a lot of folks in the precinct were doing."

Abbey sighed, "People making assumptions about your abilities comes with the territory." She frowned, "And the truth is that it's going to be worse for you because you're female, young, blond and spunky."

"Spunky?" Eddie grinned wickedly, "Is that what I am?"

"Consider it a nice way of saying you have a personality bigger than your physical stature." Abbey smirked.

"Alright, alright, I'm short. That's nothing new…" Eddie accepted with a roll of her eyes.

Abbey's smile faded, "I'm sure it's not; but it's not high school basketball. It's the NYPD and things people say behind your back can get to you if you don't figure out how to just tune them out."

"Not just _my_ back." She muttered.

Abbey knit her brow, "Meaning?"

Janko took a long drink from her beer before she looked back to Abbey, "It's bad enough that I'm a young, single female partnered with a young, single guy. Add to the fact that Jamie is the PC's kid?" She sighed, "Most people genuinely like him and don't care who his old man is but when things go down, like when he was suspended and then I tried to defend him?" She shook her head, "People _say_ things and it's like Jamie never hears it. But I do."

Abbey grimaced, "First of all, Jamie probably _does_ hear it; he's just choosing to deal with it by pretending he doesn't. People are always going to talk about the Reagans. I suspect it's happened in every house each one of them has worked and to every partner they've ever worked with." She looked down, "It's the crap end of the deal."

Eddie continued to frown into her beer so Abbey decided to change tact. She leaned back, "So, last we talked you were going to meet your partner's siblings; how'd that go?"

"Oh boy." Eddie shook her head but reconsidered, bobbing to the side, "Actually, it wasn't so bad. We met up for a couple of drinks, it was during Jamie's suspension so Danny spent most of the time making fun of Jamie and then sharing stories of when he got in trouble." She winced, "But Erin, _that_ woman should have been a cop. I felt like she could see right through me."

Abbey grinned, "Erin is pretty perceptive. She's one of the few people I've ever seen effectively call out the PC."

"I _bet_ she could." Eddie nodded. "It didn't help that she was still on medication from being shot so she wasn't drinking at all. She just...picked up on things, y'know?" She smiled, "She was not nearly as supportive of Jamie blowing off direct orders."

"I don't imagine she would be. She's pretty by the book." Abbey nodded, "She probably had some things to say about Danny's stories too."

"She sure did." Eddie nodded. She put down her glass and sighed, "It was nice though. Seeing the three of them was what I always pictured what it would be like to have siblings." She looked thoughtful, "I mean Danny and Erin were real snippy with each other but she was still in a sling so he helped her with her coat and pulled out the chair for her without saying anything. It was kinda sweet."

Abbey put down her pint, "Danny's a good big brother. Sometimes it takes a little prodding to see what he's got inside but yeah, they all have a good relationship." She smirked, "Have you met Henry?"

Eddie sighed, "Well, _that_ was a whole thing too. Jamie invited me over to his Dad's place for sandwiches and cards. We get over there but turns out the Commissioner had to go meet with the Inspector General so it's just the three of us. We get as far as Jamie's grandfather asking me where I went to high school before _he_ got a call that his friend whose been real sick was having a rough night so he left to go over there."

She shook her head, "It ended up just being Jamie and I sitting in this big house, eating turkey sandwiches. The PC got home literally just as we were in the driveway on our way out. I still haven't decided if I'm relieved or still stressed out about it."

Abbey smirked, "Neither." She shrugged, "Jamie's last partner got pulled over to their house to even out their family football team. Just be thankful they asked you to play cards instead."

"I guess." Eddie muttered. She sighed, "Sometimes I just wish I had a normal partner."

"What's normal?" Abbey shrugged, "Give it enough time and you'll get used to all of them the same way you're getting used to Jamie."

Eddie exhaled, "I hope so."

Abbey smiled and nudged her elbow, "Trust me, it'll all be good someday. In the meantime, just keep your head down, stay out of trouble and learn all you can; be it from Jamie or from additional courses." She smirked, "And don't go on dates with creeps."

"Here's to _that_!" Eddie smiled and the two women clinked their glasses together.

* * *

"That'll be all for now."

"Yes, Sir." Abbey stepped out of the PC's office, returning to her desk with the collection of notes from their informal Monday morning briefing.

Jim Nucifuro's eyes were on her as soon as the doors shut and he approached, face tense.

Abbey frowned, putting her notes down on the desk, "What?"

He looked around, grimaced at the other people in the office then tilted his head to the conference room.

Frowning, she stood and followed him into the empty room. She leaned against the table and crossed her arms as he closed the door behind them.

"Fogarty needs to be reassigned." He stated bluntly.

She frowned. Jason Fogarty was the newest detective on the commissioner's detail. He was young, but had been on since September and had seemed to be doing a good job.

She tilted her head, "Obviously, if you say so then that's it; I'll start on the paperwork this afternoon." She bit her lip, "But you know I have to ask why."

He gave a stiff nod and glanced out the windows; the bustling office space behind their desks a stark contrast to the dark, quiet conference room.

"He was talking out of turn." He turned back to her with quiet intensity.

Abbey furrowed her brow. "What was he saying that's egregious enough for a transfer?"

For the first time in the nearly 10 years she had known him, Jim appeared uncomfortable.

"We rolled last night." He started.

She nodded, "I saw your log book. He met with the Inspector General again."

Jim winced, "Not quite."

She raised her eyebrows. "Not quite what?" She blinked in disbelief, "Did you make a false entry?"

It didn't seem likely, but she knew the PC and Jim had their own side agreements when it came to the pragmatic side of the PC trying to live his life without bristling against his detail.

" _No_." Jim stared back with conviction and she held up her palms in silent apology.

He sighed, "It wasn't quite a _meeting._ "

Abbey frowned, turning his answer over in her head. "Oh..." She came to a slow, murky conclusion; not being able to resist a glance to the door leading to the Commissioner's office.

Jim winced, "It wasn't _that_ either."

She tilted her head and Jim shuffled.

"Apparently, over the weekend, during one of their meetings, the Commissioner said something he later regretted." Jim shrugged, "I don't know what it was but when we left the IG's place on Saturday he was pretty steamed."

"Okay..." Abbey crossed her arms.

"Sunday he decided she deserved an apology." He recited as if he were giving testimony, "We stopped at a liquor store, he came out with a bag, and then we went straight to her place. They spoke on the doorstep for a couple of minutes before she invited him inside. The PC gave us notification that he'd be about an hour."

He winced and shuffled, "We toured the block, picked up coffee and returned to wait but it was closer to 2 hours by the time he came back out."

"He apologized for the delay explaining she had invited him in for the end of the Saints game but he ended up falling asleep and she let him doze considering the weekend he had."

He shrugged, "Once we dropped off and closed out for the night, I caught Fogarty texting someone how we had picked the PC up from a woman's house close to midnight with his tie undone. It may have been true but Fogarty shouldn't be sharing details of the job and certainly not in a way to stir up unfounded rumors. We can't have that on the detail."

Abbey blinked...torn between anger at Fogarty and amusement at the Commissioner falling asleep on Kelly Peterson's couch after months of supposedly detesting the woman.

Looking at the storm in Jim's eyes she swallowed her amusement and nodded, straight faced, "Okay. You're a hundred percent right. No one can be on the detail if they are looking to use the position to spread rumors about the PC."

She gestured to her desk, "I'll take care of it today. Do you want to talk to Fogarty or should I?"

Jim shook his head, "He already knows I was going to request him removed and why. I'm sure he'll be expecting new orders from you."

She nodded, then risked looking up to him with a smile, "So...he fell asleep on her couch?"

Jim rolled his eyes, "That's what the man said." He sighed, then looked back with a hint of a smile, "I honestly have no idea what to make of this past weekend."

She bit her lip and touched his arm sympathetically. The detail technically worked on a rotation but Jim took on a lot himself, especially when it was sensitive or unusual circumstances, such as the past weekend.

"You should take a day." She suggested, knowing the denial was coming even before he opened his mouth.

"I'm fine." He frowned, "But I'll be with the Chief of D's finding a new replacement."

Abbey was nodding her understanding when the door to the Commissioner's office opened behind her, causing her to jump up from her leaning position.

She turned to see the PC standing in the doorway, mid-step, head tipped and eyes bouncing between the two trusted detectives.

"Everything okay?"

Jim nodded, "90-N, Boss."

Frank narrowed his eyes but Jim gave Abbey a quick nod and executed an about face out the door, leaving Abbey alone with an increasingly curious Commissioner.

He locked eyes with her, "Baker…?"

She sighed, internally cursing Nucifuro. She affixed a placating smile, "Just a minor personnel issue." She gestured toward the door Jim had just exited from, "Looks like Fogarty will be transferring off the detail."

The PC frowned, putting his hands in his pockets, "Something I did?"

"No sir," She shook her head, "It really is just one of those things."

He stared back at her for a disbelieving moment before accepting he didn't need to know more. He gave a dismissive shrug, "Well I was looking for you. The Chief's office sent up the new numbers. They're the first ones in since we got the Mayor on our side with the expanded see-something say-something initiative and I want to get a handle on them before my sit down later this afternoon."

"Of course, I'll be right in, Sir."

He nodded and returned to his desk and she allowed herself a moment to exhale.

She shook it off and stepped out to pick up her notepad and calculator but before she could enter the PC's office a deep voice cleared his throat behind her.

She turned to see Sergeant Gormley flattening his tie and adjusting his suit coat.

She raised an eyebrow, "Sergeant?"

"Uhh, I'm real sorry." He cleared his throat again, "I don't have an appointment but I gotta speak to the PC."

Abbey sighed, but before she could tell him it wasn't possible he shifted close and lowered his voice, "It's about _Detective_ Reagan."

She had to consciously contain a groan. If Danny was in enough of a bind that Gormley felt the need to report it personally, it was certain to be something to derail the day.

She kept her expression blank, "Give me a moment Sergeant."

He nodded and she pushed into the office, standing by the door as it closed.

The Commissioner gestured to desk chairs, "Let's get to work."

She didn't move and he looked back for a long moment before sighing, "What is it?"

"Sergeant Gormley is here to see you, Sir."

Frank frowned, "Was he on the schedule?"

"It's a drop by, regarding Detective Reagan, Sir." She replied evenly.

"Alright," He nodded with a sigh, "Let him in." He frowned, "You sit in too."

"Yes, Sir." She turned and opened the door, "Sergeant."

Gormley entered, stepping past her stiffly and coming to stand in front of the Commissioner's desk. Abbey followed, slipping into one of the desk chairs.

"What brings you by Sergeant?" The Commissioner leaned back.

Gormley swallowed, "James Delaney, the perp Detectives Reagan and Baez collared on Saturday? He's claiming brutality."

Frank pursed his lips, looked down a beat, then locked eyes with Abbey before looking back to Sid. "And this is coming to me instead of IA because…?"

"'Cause, Delaney isn't too clear on the process. He told me but _not_ his lawyer." Gormley shifted on his feet, "I hope you know that in most normal circumstances I would go by the book on something like this."

"And this is not a normal circumstance because…?" Frank narrowed his eyes at his son's supervisor.

"Well, Boss…Nothing about this weekend was normal." Gormley squared his shoulders and gestured broadly with his arms, "We were going all out to stop this thing. And Delaney is part of a crew who tried to shoot up two of my best detectives. Considering the one detective already has a history with IA I'm not inclined to make his life harder over this scumbag."

Frank removed his glasses and dropped them on the desk while he rubbed at the corner of his eye, "What is this Delaney claiming the Detectives did?"

Gormley pulled at the knot of his tie, "Well, he's uh…claiming he got into a brief scuffle with the Detective when he arrived at the apartment where he was arrested. During the scuffle he was knocked unconscious and when he woke up he was handcuffed to the corpse of the DoA dealer who owned the apartment."

Frank's mouth opened and he leaned forward, "Handcuffed to the...corpse?"

"Yes Sir." Gormley nodded, "Then he claims that the detectives threatened to inject him with the Boogeyman if he didn't give up the information they were looking for."

Frank sighed and looked to Abbey, who knew her eyes had grown wide. The Sergeant continued his recitation, "And then, during the altercation with the shooters, Detective Reagan instructed Detective Baez to use Delaney as a shield if need be."

"Alright." Frank held up a hand. "I don't need to hear anymore."

"Well," Sid shrugged, "That's about it anyway."

Frank shook his head, "Okay…" He exhaled, "Okay…"

Abbey watched him with interest. She knew his instinct was to go by the book when his kids were involved, but she also agreed with the Sergeant, the past weekend was an extraordinary situation and the cop in her wanted to come down in favor of protecting Danny. Although _definitely_ out of line, the detective's methods were effective and the perp wasn't injured.

The Commissioner locked eyes with her for a long moment, she got the feeling he was reading her thoughts on the subject.

He sighed in resignation and glanced back to the sergeant, "And he's leveling these charges equally at both Detectives?"

"Yes, Sir." Sid nodded, "Well, except the instruction to use as a human shield. It's not clear if Detective Baez actually followed through."

Frank looked over the Sergeant, "And what were you hoping...what by bringing this to me?"

Gormley shrugged, "Sir, I'm sorry but, I dunno. But I knew if I brought it to IA that the detectives would get put through the reamer and I _do_ know that would not be the right thing."

Frank considered him for a long moment before picking up his glasses and putting them back on, "Thank you for your handling of this matter Sergeant Gormley. You can tell Mr. Delaney that you have reported his complaints all the way up the chain and that the detectives will be dealt with appropriately."

"They will?" The Sergeant frowned, eyebrows raising.

"They will." Frank's solemn nod expressed the finality of the conversation and the Sergeant nodded rapidly.

"Oh, uh, okay Boss. Commissioner, thank you." He backed up, making his way to the door.

"Sid?" Frank stopped him as his hand was on the handle.

"Sir?" The Sergeant turned back.

"Really, _thank you_." He gave a sedate nod.

Sid swallowed, nodding his understanding before pulling the door open and exiting the room.

Frank exhaled and rolled his neck.

He met Abbey's eyes, "I don't suppose _you_ have an opinion of how I should handle this?"

She met his gaze, "I do."

"Let me guess, it lines up somewhere along the lines of Gormley's assessment."

She acknowledged his accuracy with a raise of her eyebrows.

He sighed, "Okay. Give me a couple of minutes?" He picked up his blackberry as he asked and she smiled.

"Of course, Sir."

She had barely made it to the other side of the door when her own phone rang.

She glanced down, not recognizing the 631 phone number but knowing enough people in Suffolk County she gambled on picking up instead of passing it to voicemail.

"Baker."

"Dee-tective Baker." A slick voice came through the speaker and her shoulders stooped.

She sighed, "Deputy Chief De Luca…"

"Awww, it touches my heart that you recognize my voice." A shiver ran down her spine.

He chuckled through the phone, "You know I'll be in the city for the Chief's conference in a couple weeks. I thought I might try to call early to get on your dance card."

She rolled her eyes, "How many times and in how many different ways am I going to have to say no to you before you understand me?"

"You wound me Abigail. Right through the heart."

"Seriously." She shook her head, "What have I ever done that made you think I was interested?"

"I knew we were meant for one another since the first I laid eyes on you." His voice grated in her ear. "And I _know_ you like Italians." He pushed.

"Because my _husband_ is Italian." She reminded.

He breath was heavy through the line, "What's it going to take, eh? What do I need to do?"

"Nothing." She shook her head, barely restraining her frustration, "Because nothing you do or say will ever make this go your way."

She could hear him smacking his lips through the line, "So what? Deputy Chief isn't good enough for you? What if I were Chief? Or is it just Commissioner or bust for you?"

 _"Excuse me?"_ She bit out.

Sal kept going, "What did Reagan say to get you going, huh? Or does he just need to flash that Commissioner shield for you to drop?"

Her ears began to burn and she knew they were turning red as she shook with the anger he had induced, "Do yourself a favor and hang up the phone right now Deputy Chief." She warned.

His chuckle came through the line, "Yeah, I'll hang up…but I'll be seeing you soon Abigail."


	50. Vindication

_A/N: Takes place immediately following after 4-14 "Manhattan Queens" and references 4-13 "Unfinished Business" . Also a couple lines referring to past conversations are referring to chapter 9 & 18 of this story. There is a conversation here which may touch close to home for some. Abbey's views do not necessarily reflect my own but are how I think she'd answer Frank's question; which is the question I had the first time I watched the episode._

* * *

Abbey stood with her back against the wall, watching the various Chiefs socialize during the citation awards cocktail reception.

She could feel the occasional attention directed at her. A few of the chiefs even stepped up to shake her hand or offer an impressed comment. She smiled and nodded, content to sip her water and bask in the moment and the sense of justice that accompanied chasing and closing a case. Not to mention the vindication that came from her intuition being proven correct and finally being able to get one over on Sal De Luca.

The Commissioner was right, too often their jobs didn't provide opportunity to enjoy themselves. She was inordinately pleased, and not a little surprised, that he had actually approved her plan which had started as no more than a daydream.

A part of her felt that maybe she should feel guilty; De Luca's career was sure to be ruined. She did not spare too much time on that consideration; he had crossed the line when he brought the Commissioner into his demented game of public humiliation, not too mention he _was_ an accessory to a felony. She allowed herself a small, resolute nod; Sal was due for whatever he had coming to him and if it happened that she was personally rid of a pest then that was an incidental bonus.

She jumped at the sudden feel of a hand tapping her shoulder. Abbey turned and blinked at the appearance of the Commissioner at her side. He didn't say anything, just tilted his head in the direction of the door.

Without thought, she followed him, sparing only a glance back to the still active ballroom before turning into the waiting elevator he had summoned. The cart shuddered to a stop on the 2nd floor and he gestured for her to exit first.

Realizing where they were she raised an eyebrow. The Commissioner smirked and led the way into the hotel bar. Nodding to the bartender he pulled out a chair and waited for Abbey to sit before he relaxed in to the one on her right.

She knew her confusion was painted across her face and he gave a tight-lipped grin, "You had a good day Detective."

Abbey blinked, blinked again. She looked down and smiled, tightening the corner of her lips before looking back up and considering her boss.

From the start she had always known she could rely on him for support but she hadn't been prepared for the level of enjoyment he had seemed to relish in backing her against De Luca.

"Drinks this evening?" The bartender interrupted the moment with a smile, brandishing cocktail napkins.

The Commissioner gestured to her, "Go ahead Detective, you're off the clock and I'm buying."

"Umm, Vodka Tonic, please?" She ordered.

"Irish neat. Water back." The PC added with a decisive nod.

The bartender left to fill their orders and the Commissioner pulled at the knot of his tie and released the button of his collar before dropping his hands to the bar top and inhaling deeply.

He leaned forward, his eyes scanning the room via the mirror behind the bar as he spoke, "Got a call from Sergeant Carver. They picked De Luca up in the lobby as he left. He didn't even wait for them to put the cuffs on before he fessed up about making the videos."

She didn't say anything, feeling the Commissioner's eyes on her, waiting for a reaction of some sort. Abbey wasn't sure what he expected from her, she just felt an innate sense of confident calm. She allowed herself a satisfied smile as her hands fidgeted, squaring her napkin.

The PC's eyes watched her for a long beat before he sighed, "There is one thing I'd like to know."

"Of course, Sir." She sat back, waiting.

The Commissioner looked down at his hands and rubbed his fingers across his palm. "You said you had saved some of De Luca's voicemails in case his pursuits ever rose to the level of harassment."

"Yes, Sir..." She confirmed.

He leaned back and fixed her with a stare, "150 voicemails, a banner over your parent's house, openly taunting you in a professional setting with superiors present…" He recited, his eyes narrowing, "How is any of that _not_ harassment already?"

Abbey shifted, grateful for the fortuitous timing of the bartender's return. She accepted her drink and sipped it, eyes averted.

The Commissioner made no move to touch his own drink, his attention unwavering. "Detective?"

She shrugged, at a loss of how to explain this to him. For as much as she knew she could rely on him to back her, there were also some topics and conversations the two of them just didn't have.

"That's not the kind of articulate answer I've come to expect from you." He smirked, eyes still waiting.

She tried to not grit her teeth, "It's just part of life." She attempted to brush off.

"What is?" He tilted his head, "Unsolicited advances and embarrassment are ' _just part of life'_?"

She looked to her drink then flicked her eyes up to the man in charge of the entire NYPD, "Honestly, Sir? Yes."

He froze in the moment, head tilted, brow furrowed, jaw slacked.

She sighed and straightened, "Sir, we've touched on this before."

"Wha…" He pulled back, blinking. His eyes unfocused for a beat, searching for the memory, "Before we moved to the 14th floor?" disbelief marred his expression, "That was 8 and a half years ago."

She stared back, wordlessly praying she could swallow the blush that she knew would appear on her pale skin if she had to spell out the kinds of remarks she fielded around the department on a near daily basis.

The Commissioner continued to frown, consternation crossing his face, "I maybe understood that some guys would talk back then…" He winced, "I mean, you were new and didn't…uh…look...uh...like other admins in the building."

She raised an eyebrow and he shifted uncomfortably. She knew exactly what he was trying to imply, she had heard it all explicitly before. His observation certainly didn't bother her in its current context but somehow, the more embarrassed he became the less discomfort she felt and her shoulders began to relax.

The PC tried to dig himself out of his unease, gesturing, "But you've established yourself, taking on operations and you basically run the 14th floor; not to mention you've gotten married, had a baby…brought Brian around to department functions..."

"That doesn't seem to matter much." She shrugged, absently twisting her diamond engagement ring.

She remembered when Brian had given it to her, one of her first thoughts that she had _not_ said aloud, was that perhaps this would be the talisman that would allow her to exist free of the solicitations she regularly received from coworkers who seemed to think her desire to dress nice for the office was for their hormonal benefit.

It had been disheartening, but not a surprise, when that hope had been undermined before she had even gotten out of the parking garage the next day. Detective Halle had noticed the ring as they waited for the elevator and leaned in, "So…what's a girl like you do for a guy to give you a rock like that?"

The PC was looking at her tightly, leaning back and taking a frustrated sip of his drink.

She tilted her head, astounded that he could possibly be this unaware. "Sir, you've had a mother and a wife and raised a daughter and basically helped raise your granddaughter; all of whom are outgoing and attractive women. What have they had to say about this kind of thing?"

He looked up sharply and for once his internal thoughts were as clear as if they had been written on his face. Consideration was followed by realization and a mix of stormy ire and contrition. "We...never talked about it." He near whispered, a single shake redirecting his eyes to the bar top.

Abbey raised her eyebrows. From what she'd seen the Reagans were uncommonly open and communicative as a family. "Not even with Mary or Erin?" She tilted her head, remembering telling her own father about a teasing boy in high school and his gruff, ' _Any man who tries to get a rise out of you is just compensating for something. It's their problem, not yours. None of them are worth your time."_

Frank shook his head slowly, "I had a talk with each of my boys about what's not acceptable and we have always had the age old jokes about not trusting any guy the girls date..." Remorse crossed his face, "But I haven't heard from them about any kind of grief anyone has ever given them." He looked to her, a flash of hope in his eye, "Maybe they haven't had to deal with this kind of crap."

She fought to keep the incredulity off her face, "Do you really think that?"

"It is just baffling." He shrugged, abashed.

She took a breath, considering him, "Come on Sir, between the Marines and the PD I _know_ you're no stranger to the way some guys talk."

He rolled his lips and leaned on his forearms against the bar. "Yeah, well that's just talk." He gestured, "That's not what we're talking about in your case."

"It's part of it." She shrugged. "I know how it is. In the academy and then on the beat I worked hard to be accepted as 'one of the guys'. Part of that was participating in talk of who's hot, who's sleeping with whom, who's girlfriend is just a badge bunny…all that."

She stirred her drink, "For most guys that's where it ends. But some don't understand that. They get emboldened by the talk and they take it a step too far. There isn't much that deters those guys."

The Commissioner remained tense; shoulders tight, brow furrowed and eyes focused on his drink as he listened to her.

"De Luca didn't even know I was a cop at first." She shook her head, remembering the asinine way he had approached her, prominently displaying his badge clipped strategically on the center of his belt. "I was helping my Mom run the snack shack at the Suffolk County Relay for Life a few years ago."

She smirked, "It was clear what kind of guy he was so I name dropped Chief Binette who was boss over there at the time. I thought that would cool his jets."

"Didn't work I take it." The PC grimaced.

"You could say that." Abbey agreed with a nod. "And mentioning who I worked for only backfired; I think he got a kick out of it." She bit the inside of her cheek, recalling with anger how dismissive Sal had been of the PC's office.

"I would see him from time to time at functions" She continued, "And he'd always make comments. Annoying, but not anything that I haven't had to get used to ever since puberty."

The Commissioner coughed into his hand and he shifted on his stool.

She smiled, amused by his parochial prudishness. "Because he knew where I worked he was able to track down my number. When the calls started I brushed it off because if I got upset about a phone call I'd never have made it through high school, never mind college and then the police academy."

The Commissioner frowned but she shook it off, "And then one call became two and two became three and then more...but if I wasn't bothered by the previous ones, why should one more make the difference? I didn't feel I could draw an arbitrary line."

"You ever hear of the straw breaking the camel's back?" The PC picked up his scotch, taking a sip.

"I guess it just never reached that point for me. I have more important things on my plate than spending time complaining about a man who never matured past eighth grade." She sipped her drink.

Frank appraised her for a long moment, eyes flicking into his glass as he pursed his lips. "Are there others?"

She shrugged, "De Luca is certainly the most prolific."

He flicked his eyes up, "So that's a yes."

She firmed her lips and looked away.

"You aren't going to tell me who?"

She crossed her arms and looked back, "Would you expect any other detective to report to you on other cops who aren't breaking any laws?"

"This department does have rules and guidelines, you know." He looked at her, mouth agape. "I'd have expected the person in your position to know and care about enforcing them."

She bit the inside of her lip and frowned. "Outside of a few comments they're good guys. Furthermore, they're good cops. Some of whom perform important functions."

"No one is irreplaceable." He frowned.

"And no high brass is going to be replaced because he enjoys making snide comments to an aide." She shot back.

"May be he should be." Frank huffed, turning in his chair to squarely face her.

She shook her head, "No sir."

" _How_ are you defending this?" His eyebrows knit his tone on the edge of irritation.

She sighed, "I'm not defending anything." She looked away, "But I'm not about to participate in some pointless exercise of naming names. There maybe regulations but if no one is being hurt and you were to start removing Captains and Deputies for what are largely perceived as jokes then it would do nothing but create unnecessary issues down the ranks."

He continued to frown at her.

"It's cultural." She shrugged, "Every woman gets it at some point in their lives. More so if you look a certain way and insert yourself into a masculine environment such as the NYPD." She leaned forward, "I didn't come into this job with my eyes closed. I knew what I was getting into."

"That's not…" He rolled his lips rethinking his rebuke, "I can't accept that."

She rolled her eyes. "You already do."

She froze as soon as the dismissive words were out of her mouth. She swallowed and glanced to her drink as if she could blame the two sips of vodka tonic for her slip of tongue.

He tilted his head, "What's that mean?"

She ground her teeth and looked back to him. She winced and sighed before relenting, "Earlier this week, when Sal made the stop and frisk comments while I was at the lectern." She waited for him to acknowledge his recollection. "Do you remember how many of the guys in the room laughed?"

The Commissioner shifted, "Quite a few."

"Yes, sir. And no one called him out, told him he was unprofessional, and a cad." She shrugged, "You only just now referred to it as harassment because of the greater context you know now. But had I not told you any of that, you would have continued to think it was a joke in poor taste which required no report or rebuke and he would continue to think what he was doing was acceptable." She frowned, "And when I first brought up that I thought De Luca was behind the videos you assumed it was because of what he had said, not that I had real, objective reason to accuse him."

His lips parted but he remained quiet, reflective, eyes flicking back to her every few seconds.

"I'm sorry." He finally offered, guiltily.

She shook her head, "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Apparently I do." He rebuked, full of dismay.

She sighed, "It's not you. It's just how it is." She tilted her head, "I _know_ that you do have a line with these things. Just a couple weeks ago you wrote up Detective Douglas for referring to a murder victim as a 'chick'." She shrugged, "We all have a nuanced approach and most of it happens without any conscious consideration."

He shifted again, face pinched in concentration as he picked up his scotch and put it back down again.

"I don't like that you just seemed resigned to this." He shook his head, "No cop under my command should be made to just accept being treated this way by anyone, never mind another cop."

He propped his elbow on the bar top and rubbed his fingers behind an ear as he thought aloud, "I know we've discussed some of the benefits of the academy being rougher for certain people, and maybe I'm wrong there too, but at the very least once a cop graduates we all bleed blue. Any kind of tension or distrust is not only wrong but potentially dangerous."

He scowled, locked in thought.

She tapped the table, thinking for the right words to get him to understand her position.

She bit her lip, "Your father was high brass when you first joined the department, right?"

He blinked, startled by the non-sequitor, "Yes…"

"And then he was the Commissioner when you were a detective?" She continued.

"Where you going with this?" His dropped his hands to the bar and narrowed his eyes.

She took a deep breath, "I'm sure you didn't have any problems with the majority of the guys, especially once you proved yourself as capable and independent of your hook."

He continued to watch her, giving her the space to explain.

"But…" She leaned on her elbows, "I'm sure there were also a few who gave you a hard time. Some directly to your face, some behind your back." She tilted her head, "And, maybe, some of the guys who were otherwise good guys, guys you liked and respected, would be among those talking behind your back?"

His eyes were on his drink, and his shoulders caved. "There were a few."

"And I'm equally sure you never did anything about it." She smiled gently, "Just ignored their nonsense and did your work. The same as I'm sure Danny and Joe and Jamie have done the same."

"It's part of life." He repeated her initial words with a slow head nod.

"Just something to deal with." She shrugged, taking another sip of her drink.

He nodded, "Okay." He frowned, "What if I still don't like it?"

"I don't know."

He smirked, "Well, I don't like that answer either."

"Honestly a lot is changing on its own." She shrugged, "The world is changing, more women are joining the department than ever and more are moving into boss positions." She smiled, "I'm sure it's better for women now than it was when you were walking a beat."

He picked up his scotch, "Are you calling me old, Detective?"

"Of course not, Sir." She smiled, "But speaking of, your birthday _is_ coming up."

"New topic." He glared.

She rolled her eyes and he grinned at her over his glass before taking a sip.

She stirred her drink and let the subject drop, content to sit in quiet for a moment, reflecting on the conversation. Next to her the PC put down his drink, leaning both forearms on the bar and absently tapping his USMC ring against the glass. She caught herself staring at the heavy gold ring, the Marine logo standing out.

She pulled her eyes back up to Frank, "How's Danny?"

"A pain in my ass." He muttered, the automatic, flippant answer surprising her into snorting into her drink.

"Sorry, you were asking a legitimate question." He leaned back, an unapologetic tilt to his lips. "He's Danny. Fine, last I checked. Why?"

She hesitated, not wanting to diminish his good humor. She shifted, "I was just thinking back to the last case I remember him having. A few weeks ago on Fort Hamilton?"

"With the Corporal?" He rubbed at the side of his neck, "It was good timing we had the camping trip after that." He looked at her, "Turning off for a couple of days was good for him."

She nodded, not quite sure what the right response was despite being the one to bring up the subject. The Commissioner was twisting his ring, a deep set frown marring his expression.

She remembered the haunted look in Danny's eyes when he had returned home from the Marines and had gone straight to his father's office and she was uncomfortably familiar with how his military experience had sometimes intersected with the job. Over the years she had also felt privileged to know the hard-ass detective was also a sweet father and devoted brother and son.

The mother in her wanted to know how he had coped with not being able to save the tormented combat veteran and if he really was okay after only a short camping trip to reset. But that was a step in to uncertain territory with the PC and they had already spent notable time on serious topics, especially considering this was supposed to be a celebratory drink.

Forcing a smile on her face she made an effort to relax in her chair, "So… is there a particular reason Detective Reagan is a pain in the ass or is that just status quo?"

He glanced at her, the frown lifting slightly, "Oh, it's status quo; but he works hard to keep it that way."

She watched with amused interest as the Commissioner put on his glasses and shifted to pull out his phone. Resting his arms back on the bar he turned on the device and flicked through his messages until he came to a picture. He enlarged the photo and held the phone out for her to take.

She glanced at the picture and then zoomed in, a smirk fighting it's way on to her lips as she looked closely.

Danny was posing with a pleased grin, leaning on an umbrella in the middle of what looked like an empty nightclub of some sort. He wore a tweed suit and vest as well as round glasses and a fedora.

She looked back at her boss, confused, "Isn't mimicry the biggest form of flattery?"

He scowled, "That was _not_ the intention." He snatched the phone back and glared at the picture. "He did a sting where he was playing a man who was engaged to a drag queen." He shook his head, " _Apparently_ this is how the man dresses."

Abbey blinked, glanced back at the picture from over his shoulder, and then covered her mouth to hide the laugh.

"Did you just _snort_?" He accused with disbelief when she was not entirely successful.

Her shoulders continued to shake with silent laughter which she attempted to disguise with a shrug, "Well, Sir. You do have similar glasses. And I know you don't wear it to the office anymore but you _do_ like your tweed."

"It's practical." He griped, "Lasts long. Same as the hat. It's just a good, practical hat."

She raised her eyebrows, "Okay…." She no longer bothered to contain her grin, "So what exactly is the problem?"

He frowned, "I'm not homophobic or anything; but…" He gestured to the picture still on his phone.

"You don't like your son suggesting that you have the same fashion sense as a gay man?" She finished for him.

He shot her a look, frowning, eyebrows darkening his face, "You're making it sound bad."

She shook her head, grinning, "With all due respect sir, I think you're doing that all on your own."

"It's not about fashion." He asserted. "I don't care about fashion."

"Okay…" She nodded, clearly transmitting that she wasn't buying his attempt to obfuscate the source of his discomfort.

He shifted, scowling, "It wouldn't be a thing if Danny didn't make it one."

She looked over his shoulder, at the image still on the screen. Aside from his widows peak and eyes, Danny usually looked a lot more like his grandfather than his father but in the rounded glasses and vest she could see more of a resemblance than normal. The broad, toothy smile told her that Danny knew exactly what kind of reaction he would get by sharing the picture.

She covered her smile with her fingers and did her best to deadpan, "Doesn't every father want their son to emulate them?"

"My son is a pain in my ass." Frank grumbled again with a roll of his eyes.

She smiled, "Well, at the risk of my job, I have to admit I'm glad to see it."

He glanced back down at his phone, a faint smile crossing his face. "Me too."

"There you two are!" Abbey and Frank turned simultaneously to see Garrett coming up behind them. "You just left me alone up there."

"Mhrm." Frank turned his stool so he could lean back against the bar as he sipped his drink. "We escaped to toast to victory."

Garrett raised his eyebrows and looked to Abbey who just shrugged, sipping at her own drink.

He shook his head and loosened his own tie as he stepped around Frank to catch the bar tender's attention with a gesture to Frank's glass. A moment later he stepped back, his own scotch in hand.

"So, to victory over lowlife scum?" He raised his glass.

Abbey raised her own glass, "To enjoying your work."

Frank pursed his lips and made a matching gesture, "To Detective Abigail Baker."

She felt her face flush and she ducked her chin, meeting eyes with her boss. He smiled back genuinely.

The three clinked their glasses and took a sip, sealing the moment.


	51. Palliative

_A/N - Takes Place After Episode 4.15 "Open Secrets" and leading into Episode 4.16 "Insult to Injury" - I was feeling a little fluffy with this one :)._

* * *

"I'm dying."

She raised an eyebrow in the direction of her husband but gave no reply as she pulled up her stockings.

"Seriously…" He whined, face half buried in his pillow, "I'm dying and you're just going to leave me."

"You have a stomach bug." She rolled her eyes, zipping up her skirt.

He glared back at her, "It's the flu. Do you know how many people the flu has killed?"

"Mhrmmm." She replied patronizingly, disappearing into the closet, "You let me know when you start collecting fluid in your lungs."

He pushed himself up to his elbows, "That's pneumonia."

She approached the bed with her blouse, "I know. That's how the flu kills people; it turns into pneumonia."

He flopped back down, grabbing her pillow and hugging it close, "It's a good thing you're a cop and not a doctor or a nurse."

"Why?" She asked, kneeling on the mattress and prying her pillow away from him.

"Because you've got sucky bedside manner." He retorted.

She deposited her pillow a safe distance away from his germs and leaned closer, placing the back of her hand on his forehead, "I used up all my bedside manner staying up as you went back and forth to the bathroom all night."

"So you've got to be tired too." He took her hand from his forehead and tugged at her arm, "Stay home with me today."

She pulled back, leveraging against the mattress, "Are you seriously trying to kiss me right now?"

He shrugged, "I'm dying…not dead yet."

She shook her head and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead, "You're not dying. Stop being a baby, get some sleep and I'll pick up some matzos ball soup on my way home tonight."

He shifted back up on the mattress, "Speaking of babies…"

She sighed and glanced in the direction of the door, "We can't just let him play in here for the day?"

Brian rolled his eyes and made a point of looking around at the notably _not_ toddler proof clutter around their room.

She took a deep breath, "Okay…I'll call my mother."

* * *

"Boom car. Boom." Michael babbled happily in reference to the loud bang of the 1PP parking garage security door.

She smiled and shifted him up on her hip and gave a short prayer of thanks that the elevator arrived quickly and was empty.

Michael's eyes widened as the floor button lit up and she had to hold back his hands from reaching to push the other buttons before the door opened.

"Okay, you need to be a good, good boy right now." She whispered as she stepped off and headed directly to the office at the end of the hall, breathing a sigh of relief that the DCPI was already at his desk.

"Morning." She greeted, waiting for Garrett to pull his attention up from the legal pad in front of him.

"Ba…" He stuttered, eyes flicking to the toddler on her hip, "…Ker?"

She kept a sweet smile on her face as Garrett stood and came around his desk, "Hey there young man."

Michael grinned back, "No 'utton."

"You don't say…" Garrett raised his eyebrows.

"I wouldn't let him touch the buttons in the elevator." Abbey explained.

"Ah." Garrett nodded, "And what occasion merits this special guest?"

"Brian's caught whatever 24 hour bug has been going around." She sighed.

Garrett's nose wrinkled, "Been there. Nothing worse than trying to keep a kid entertained when all you want is to bury yourself in bed."

"Yeah…" Abbey commiserated. "And my Mother can't take him until after the appointment she has at 9."

"So he gets to visit the Commisioner's office. Lucky boy." Garrett smiled, poking at Michael's arm until he smiled in return.

Abbey shifted and grimaced, "Actually…I was hoping he'd be lucky enough to visit a _Deputy_ Commissioner's office."

He dropped his hand and looked to her, "What?"

She bit her lip, "I don't exactly have an office. My desk is in a glorified hallway with a half dozen other people working around me and countless people passing through."

"So…you want to leave him here?" Garrett twisted his face.

"I'm sorry…" She exhaled, "But it's just for a couple hours. I have some Sesame Street episodes loaded on a tablet that will keep him occupied. Keep the door closed and it will be easy as pie."

"Abbey…" He muttered, glancing around the room.

She frowned, "I know. It's assumptive of me. But…I'm at a loss and you have a kid, you know what it's like."

"Let's be clear," Garrett tilted his head, "I met Sam's mom when he was 5; I've never raised a toddler." He shifted, "Why didn't you just come in late?"

"The Inspector General is supposed to be in this morning and I need to put some things together for the Commissioner and then I need to finish the wrap up from the incident with Detective Hayley and Scotland Yard so that they'll fully exonerate him." She heaved a sigh, "Believe me, if I thought it was typical day stuff I would have just called one of the assistants and stayed home."

Garrett glanced back to his desk and then to the clock. "I had planned on writing for the next hour to 90 minutes. Would that be enough time for you to get a dent in what you need to do?"

Her shoulders relaxed and she nodded, "Absolutely."

"Alright." Garrett relented, "What's in the bag of tricks?" He gestured to the brightly colored bag she had slung under her arm.

She let it drop to the visitor chair, "A sippy cup of apple juice, a tupperware of cheerios and an ipad. Give him all of it, hit play on the Sesame Street and he should be good to go for at least an episode. Call me and I'll come grab him when you need to move on or if he gets distractingly fussy." She smiled, "You're a real hero, Garrett."

"Yeah, where's my commendation bar?" He muttered reaching out and taking Michael from her. "Come here little guy."

"Bubpop?" Michael asked, reaching out to touch Garrett's hair.

Abbey covered her giggle as Garrett raised a questioning eyebrow in her direction, "Bubpop is what he calls my father." She explained, "You have the same color hair."

"Oh great…" Garrett shook his head, looking back to Michael, "First rule of public relations, kid, if someone's doing you a favor, flatter them. Don't start off saying they look old."

Abbey grinned, "Really, thank you so much for this. One hour is perfect."

"Just don't forget you're going to owe me for this. Big." Garrett gestured.

"I know." Abbey nodded, backing toward the door, "Absolutely. You name it."

"Alright, go." Garrett waived her away, reaching into the bag and pulling out the ipad.

"Street!" Michael squealed in delight. " 'Mo!"

Abbey spared one last glance before closing the door and hurrying up the short stairs to the Commissioner's level.

She had barely made it to her desk before the back elevator dinged and the Commissioner hoofed through the office, followed by Jim.

Abbey could often judge a day by what kind of morning greeting the PC tossed her way. Most days it was a cursory 'Morning.' or a simple 'Baker.' acknowledgement.

Sometimes if he was in a good mood it would be, "Good Morning Detective" and on rare occasions he might even stop at her desk to strike up a conversation about the day ahead, questions regarding a file or her weekend plans.

But today was one of the rarest of mornings where he passed by without an acknowledgement at all. Usually that only happened if he was already in conversation with someone else, but if he just stalked past Abbey knew to brace herself for a rocky day.

She glanced to Jim. The other detective shook his head, "I hope you have a light day scheduled."

"Yeah, right." Abbey grimaced, picking up the stacks of papers and reports she had prepared and stepping into what she assumed was the lion's den.

Entering the office, she frowned. At first she only saw the Commissioner's jacket dumped onto one of the visitor chairs in front of the empty desk. A movement caught the corner of her eye and she stepped more fully into the room and looked in the opposite direction.

The Commissioner was sunk into one of the large armchairs, feet propped on the coffee table. His briefcase was open on the floor and the report he had been working through the previous evening was in his lap but it was still closed and his palm covered his face as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"Sir?" She asked with trepidation.

He muffled a low groan and dropped his hand, "Detective. Do you have those ILP numbers?"

His voice was rough, lower than normal, and as she moved around the furniture she could see his eyes were rimmed and his short hair lay unusually flat against his pale forehead.

She nodded, holding out the folder with the report he was looking for. "Are you alright, sir?"

"'m fine." He mumbled as he shifted to reach his glasses out of his vest pocket.

She didn't move, knowing that 'fine' was not an accurate descriptor of the man in front of her but unsure how hard to push the issue.

He pulled his eyes up to her when she didn't say anything or step away. "What?"

She frowned, "You don't look fine."

"Great." He rolled his eyes, "Always nice to hear someone say you look like crap."

She smirked, "Do you want coffee?"

He looked back at her with all the affect of Droopy Dog.

She contained her sigh and placed the rest of the folders on to the table by his feet. She grabbed his coat off the chair as she moved to the carafe of coffee by the desk. "You could have called out sir. I could call over and see if we can reschedule the Inspector General this morning."

"I'm not sick." He asserted.

She shook her head, noting a light sheen of sweat on his brow as she handed him the coffee, "What is it with guys and being sick?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" He hid a pout behind the coffee mug.

"Nothing." She crossed her arms, "Just my husband has the flu and is trying to convince me it's terminal meanwhile you're here melting into your chair and trying to convince me you're not sick." She smirked, "Just searching for an honest man."

He glared at her over the rim of the mug as he took a long sip, "I _can't_ be sick." He lowered the mug to rest on his chest, just under his chin and breathed in deeply, "I told Linda I'd cover for her chaperoning Sean's field trip tomorrow."

Abbey blinked, her smirk growing into a smile, "Chaperoning, sir?"

"She had to pick up a shift and it's Sean's turn to have a parent help out. It's an after school trip to the Natural History Museum; I didn't give it much thought when she asked." He frowned, "Come to think of it, wasn't much _asking_ actually involved before I was agreeing to it…my daughter-in-law would make a damn good interrogator."

Abbey nodded, biting her lip, "Okay, well, maybe we should come up with a back up plan? Danny comes to mind, or Sean's Aunt or Uncle?"

Frank bent his neck and rubbed at his eyes, pinching his nose again, "Yeah. I'm pretty sure Danny has a shift but do me a favor, check into my children's work schedules tomorrow."

Abbey nodded and made a note, "If they're all occupied I can probably adjust things through backchannels, open up one of the guys' schedules?"

"No…just…" He sighed, "Just have a plan on the back burner."

"Okay." She nodded. "And what about today?"

"What about it?" He parroted back.

"If you can't be sick tomorrow, you don't want to go home and rest up today?" She raised an eyebrow.

He grimaced, "I'm just a little under the weather. I'm not an invalid."

"Okay…" She replied, not keeping her disagreement off her face.

He huffed out a breath, shaking his head, "When I was in the Marines I caught Dengue fever. I had to hoof it nearly 40 miles through the jungle with 102 degree fever and Viet Cong in every other tree." He set his jaw, "It was a week before I got to sleep in a bed."

"Okay." Abbey nodded slowly, "But today I would just need to ask Detective Nucifero to get the car ready and in 20 minutes you can be home, in your own bed, probably with your father making some chicken soup."

He snorted and flipped open the folder she had given him, "I have things I need to do."

"Yes Sir." She relented, allowing a hint of patronizing into her tone. "That's the ILP report but you should also glance through this…" She pulled out a folder from the stack she had previously put down, "…before the Inspector General gets here."

A knock sounded at the door and Frank glanced at his watch, "I think we're too late for that."

He sighed and straightened slightly, "Let her in but stick around in case I need you to fill in whatever it is I didn't read."

Abbey nodded and opened the office door admitting the petite frame of the Inspector General.

Kelly Peterson did the same double take of the empty desk that Abbey had done before her eyes found the Commissioner in the large chair.

"Jesus, Frank." She drawled out, "You look terrible."

Abbey looked down, hiding her smirk as the PC grumbled, "Is everyone going to tell me I look like crap today?"

"Well, you do." Kelly stepped closer, "What happened?"

"Nothing." Frank ground out. "Can we get to this? Did you bring my proposal to city council?"

Kelly ignored him, reaching out and resting the back of her hand on his forehead. "You have a fever." She commented as if it would be news to him.

He batted her hand away. "Is that something they teach you when you become a mother or do all women just innately know to do that thing?"

Kelly rolled her eyes, "I don't know. Do all men instinctually become petulant 10 year olds when they're sick or does someone teach you that?"

He glared at her, "You going to answer my question?"

She spared him another look over before acquiescing with a shake of her head and long exhale.

"Yes." She moved around the table and sat facing him on the edge of the couch. Abbey settled into the opposite chair and balanced her notepad on her knees.

"I did go to the City Council with your _suggestion_." Kelly confirmed.

"And?" The Commissioner sighed.

"And, I was right, they weren't keen on me nominating myself to be the only person you brief on the program." She clenched her jaw and stared at him, "But it would seem that members of the council are familiar enough with your methodology that they can sense when you've put up the brick wall."

Frank smirked, "So we've got a deal then?"

"Close." She shifted, adjusting the strap of her bag, "The theme of the day is _more_ oversight, not less. They want something from you."

Frank leaned his neck back, lips rolling, "What is it?"

She sighed, "Body cameras."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth he sat up straight, feet banging off the table as he leaned forward, ready to argue, only to grasp the edge of the chair as he wavered and any remaining pallor drained from his face.

Abbey and Kelly glanced at one another as he clenched his jaw and blinked, swallowing a few times.

"Frank?" Concern laced Kelly's voice.

He held up a hand and exhaled; taking a seemingly long time to return his focus to her, "Body cameras." He repeated, ignoring his momentary nausea.

She squared her shoulders, "Frank…"

"Are Garcia and Tong are onboard with this?" He grilled, still blinking, "Because last we talked…"

"Frank, stop." Kelly interrupted.

He pulled his jaw closed and looked back at her, simmering.

She sighed, "Look, you're right, there are some hold outs on the council which is why they want a _test_ program, not a full roll out." She leaned forward, "A week ago we were contemplating having hearings; you had to have known they weren't going to just back down without getting something from you."

She looked him over, "It's how the game is played, Frank."

"You don't need to explain that to me." He muttered, sipping on his coffee, "I've been playing it for longer than I'd ever intended to."

"So you should know by now that this is the end of the line. Support a test program for body cameras and they'll agree to minimum oversight of the ILP being folded into the General Inspector's role." She paused, waiting for him to look at her, "No public hearings but also, no public rebukes of the camera program from this office."

He stared back at her, elbows braced on his knees, lips rolling in thought. Abbey thought she could almost see the metaphorical chessboard he was puzzling through before his shoulders dropped with a sigh, "Fine."

Kelly exhaled in relief, "Good. Who knows, maybe the cameras will be a good thing; vindicate falsely accused cops."

He shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "Don't start."

"Just trying to provide a silver lining." She smiled crossing her legs.

"Didn't realize you were an optimist." He volleyed back.

Kelly rolled her eyes, "If I'm an optimist, you're a bleeding heart."

Abbey's eyebrows rose, people called her boss a great many things but she didn't think she'd ever heard anyone accuse him of being a bleeding hearted liberal before; not that he didn't have some unpredictable moments.

Her amusement at the exchange was short lived as Garrett entered the room without a knock.

"Abbey?" His voice was strained and he held a whimpering Michael close to his chest.

She immediately tensed, "What's wrong?"

Both Kelly and Frank looked on as she stood and approached the DCPI and her son.

"Garrett…" Kelly tilted her head, "Kidnapping children now?"

Garrett ignored her, eyes looking past Abbey and landing on the Commissioner, "Frank, you sick?"

Frank rolled his eyes and gestured back to him, "How about you answer Baker's question first, what's wrong with the boy?"

Abbey was grateful to the PC for his concern but she could tell what was wrong as soon as she lifted Michael from Garrett's arms. The little boy was flush and warm, eyes glassy.

"He was fussy for a while." Garrett explained, "I thought maybe it was just being in the unfamiliar place but then he retched pretty impressively."

"He threw up?" Abbey clarified.

"Oh yeah." Garrett nodded. "Not sure what you fed the kid the past few days but it's all in my wastebasket now." He smirked and poked at Michael's legs. "There were some tears but he settled down pretty quick. Still figured you'd want to know."

"Absolutely, thank you. I'm sorry." Abbey frowned, placing her hand on Michael's forehead.

"Don't worry about it." Garrett smirked, "Just increased the size of the chip you now owe me.

She couldn't be bothered with his teasing at that moment, she really was inordinately grateful to him and was more than happy to owe him a big favor.

"Baker…"

She clenched, turning back to the Commissioner, "Yes, Sir?"

He gave her a sympathetic smile, "What's going on?"

Her jaw dropped as her concern for her son was put in appropriate context and she remembered where she stood and with whom.

"Oh, uh…well, I mentioned, Brian's sick so I couldn't leave him home. My mother is supposed to stop by in about an hour to pick him up." She shifted him on her hip, "I'm sorry about this."

Frank shook his head, "Don't be. In fact, I like the idea of adding babysitting to the DCPI's portfolio." He gestured, "Maybe _he_ can go on the field trip tomorrow."

"Wait, what?" Garrett's eyebrows knit together in consternation and Abbey smiled.

"I _am_ sorry though, sir." She frowned, and looked at her simpering baby, "I know I said I would get the Detective Hayley project wrapped up before I left today but I think I need to leave."

The PC pursed his lips together and nodded, "Of course."

"Thank you." She nodded and turned to the door.

"Or," The Commissioner's voice stilled her and she turned back around to see him standing by the chair, "If you're comfortable with it, give him to me."

She blinked, "What?"

Frank gestured to Kelly, "I think we're about wrapped up here. I was planning on just reading through these briefs for most of the morning in prep for tomorrow's Compstat. Michael can camp out on the couch with me. Looks like he's almost asleep anyway."

Abbey looked down to see her son's blue eyes blinking slowly.

"Sir, I couldn't…" She started.

"Why not?" Frank pushed his hands into his pockets and shrugged, "I promise I have plenty of experience with sick toddlers."

Abbey hesitated, "I mean, if you're sure…"

"I am." Frank stepped closer and she carefully transferred her boy to his arms.

Michael stirred, reached in the direction of his face before sighing and settling for wrapping his pudgy fingers on the edge of the PC's dark vest and placing three fingers from his other hand into his mouth as his eyes slipped closed.

Abbey blinked. "Okay..."

The Commissioner smiled softly at the sleeping boy and swept back his damp strawberry blond hair, "Poor little guy."

He looked back up to Abbey and shrugged, "I'm the one whose been putting the pressure on to take care of Detective Hayley. Might as well help how I can."

"Yes, you seem so put off by the burden." Kelly sarcastically smirked at him, approaching to look at the sleeping boy. "He looks a lot like you." She smiled at Abbey.

Abbey smiled back, "He has a lot of his father in him." She sighed and touched the back of his head, "Which includes just wanting to fuss and sleep when he doesn't feel well."

"That's not uncommon." Kelly empathized.

Garrett clapped his hands, "Okay, well, I have baby vomit to clean out of my office."

Everyone winced in unison.

"Thanks for the visual Garrett." Frank rolled his eyes, "Why don't you go ahead and deal with that."

Abbey bit her lip, "Do you want me to…?"

"No. No, no…" Garrett held up his hand, "This I can do."

Kelly watched the DCPI leave before she turned back to Frank, "I guess we're done too." She glanced around the room, visually collecting her thoughts, "I'll call you regarding what the council wants to do with the body cameras." She slipped her phone into her purse. "I was under the impression they've already fielded quotes for the equipment so it should be relatively quick."

"Okay." Frank grimaced. "And have your people get in touch to schedule the monthly ILP briefing schedule."

"It's a plan." She nodded, hesitating before heading out the door. She tilted her head, "And this, here?" She gestured to Michael tucked securely in Frank's arms, " _Bleeding Heart_."

He narrowed his eyes, "I prefer to think of it as being a pragmatic boss supporting his employee."

"Mhrm." She smirked heading out the door, "Whatever you say, Frank."

He huffed but turned his attention back to Michael, his whole being softening as he readjusted the sleeping boy.

Abbey smiled, "Are you sure about this, Sir?"

"I am." He nodded, turning back to the chair, bypassing it in favor of the couch. "Just do me a favor and toss those folders and that pen little bit closer?"

She picked everything up and moved it next to him.

"Thank you." He gave a nod, and pulled out the top folder, dropping it open onto his lap, "Now you go ahead and wrap up Detective Hayley. Mike and I will be right here whenever your mother comes by."

Abbey gave Michael's back one last rub before stepping back, "Thank you, Sir. Shouldn't be long." She headed to the door, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she spared a glance over her shoulder, watching her son's slight twitch as he slept against the Commissioner.

"He's fine." The PC assured. "I really have done this before."

"Okay, yes, of course. Thank you, Sir." She nodded and went back to her desk, trying to keep her focus on the task in front of her.

* * *

The clock had just crept past 10:10 when the phone rang, Marcocci from downstairs calling to alert her that her mother had passed through security and was on her way up.

Abbey breathed out a sigh of relief and pushed away from her desk to tell the Commissioner he was being reprieved from watching over Michael.

Stepping into the office she paused, taking in the scene on the couch.

Michael was still sleeping, albeit slightly fretfully, against the Commissioner. He had the PC's tie clenched tight in his hand as he sucked on his fingers, his cheeks rosy with fever.

The Commissioner had put his feet back on the coffee table and the same report he had been reading when she left an hour ago was open on his lap. His glasses were on the arm of the couch and both hands were wrapped around the toddler on his chest. His head was tilted back, eyes closed, mouth slightly open.

She could not resist snapping a picture with her phone. She told herself that she'd keep it private for now, but knew it'd make a great momento if her son ever did join the department years down the road.

Returning her phone to her pocket she tried to approach the couch without disturbing either of them. She gently removed the tie from Michael's fist and tried to pick him up by his armpits only to have the Commissioner's grip tighten protectively.

She frowned. "Sir?"

He shifted and mumbled something unintelligible.

She grimaced; standing this close she could feel the feverish warmth radiating off of both of them.

"Sir?" She tried again, lightly touching his shoulder, "My mother has come to pick up Michael. You can let him go now."

"Hrmph?" He blinked open groggy eyes and sighed, "Kay."

His arms relaxed and she smiled, "Thank you."

"Mhmm." His eyes closed again and he shifted deeper into his recline, "Bye Mikey." He exhaled, relaxing back into sleep, hands returning to his chest and fisting for a beat when they encountered only air.

Michael fussed at being disturbed and she held him tight, quickly stepping out of the office in time to greet her mother coming up from the elevator.

"Hey Honey." Her smile faltered as she immediately caught on to Michael's fever, "Poor boy, I didn't realize he was sick too."

Abbey shook her head, "He wasn't when I called you. It came on quick just over an hour ago."

"Oh, baby." She collected her Grandson, "I'm so sorry I couldn't get out of my appointment this morning, I hope it wasn't too much of a fuss to have him here."

Abbey smiled, thinking back to the scene she had just walked in on, "It's okay, Mom. He was in good hands."


	52. Diversion

_A/N - Mostly references 4.17 and 4.18, Knockout Game and Righting Wrongs_

* * *

The spring weather had seemed so welcoming at 6am when Abbey had decided which jacket to wear but 14 hours later the early April chill made her cute overcoat feel much less appropriate. She pulled it tight as she descended the steps to the subway.

She swiped her metro card just in time to catch a 6 train. The car was crowded with midtown tourists and people dressed for a night on the town. She held on to the overhead bar and flipped aimlessly through her contacts; it seemed a waste to be heading home at 8 pm on a rare free Friday evening.

Her parents had taken Michael out to their place in Ocean Bay Park to give Brian some relief as he was overloaded with work and she wasn't supposed to join them until tomorrow morning. The PC had wrapped up earlier than anticipated and she had grabbed the opportunity to meet up with Anita at a chic uptown bistro. Before their second round Anita's desk sergeant had called her back to the precinct leaving Abbey at a bit of a loss of what to do with her evening.

She tried not to feel disappointed as she tucked her phone back in her purse; anyone who didn't have kids or a shift to deal with probably already had Friday night plans. By the time she got off at the City Hall stop the train was mostly empty and she had decided if she went home and Brian wasn't in the mood to be distracted, which was likely, then she could head out to Long Island and make it to her parent's place before midnight. It wasn't ideal, but there was a certain appeal to waking up near the ocean.

She just needed to grab her laptop from her desk.

Arriving at the 14th floor she was surprised to see lights on in the conference room, blinds closed.

She frowned, Jim wasn't at his desk and the lights to the PC's office were off. She couldn't fathom who else would be using the room this late on a Friday night.

For a moment she contemplated taking her gun out of it's locked desk drawer but shook her head and exhaled. Security was still in place she reminded herself, it wasn't an intruder, probably just Garrett organizing something for a Sunday paper.

Not wanting to startle him she slowly pushed the door open.

Garrett _was_ there, sitting on the far side of the table, suit jacket gone; but he wasn't alone.

The Commissioner sat at the head of the table, also sans his jacket and without his tie. His white sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and a cigar was sticking out of his vest pocket.

Erin Reagan sat to her father's left, dressed for the office, but her heels had been kicked off and were lying on the floor next to her chair. Jim sat to her left, as buttoned up and professional as always, with perhaps a slight loosening of his tie. Most surprising was that between Garrett and the Commissioner sat the Mayor in a sports jacket and dark polo.

What they were doing was immediately clear; all five held cards in their hands and stacks of poker chips in front of them, along with glasses of scotch, with the exception of Jim who had a glass of water.

Garrett, Jim and Erin glanced at Abbey as she entered the room but the Mayor kept his eyes on his cards and the Commissioner kept his eyes on the Mayor.

The Mayor looked to Frank and smirked with confidence, "Raise to you Commissioner." He dropped a few green chips into the pot.

The PC didn't move. The Mayor rolled his shoulders and raised a hand to scratch at the back of his head. The Commissioner's lips tipped slightly, "I think I'll raise as well." He moved a mix of green and blue chips into the pot.

Erin glanced to her father with a quick grin, "Raise." She declared, dropping some chips in.

"Raise." Jim added without thought, pushing his chips up the table.

Garrett blinked at the pot then looked at his hand, "I'll call."

The Mayor shook his head but moved the requisite chips into the pot, "Call."

"Raise." The Commissioner put two more green chips into the pile and then looked at his daughter with a patronizing grin.

"Ugh." She sighed. "Fold." She glared at her father, only causing him to smile more.

"Fold." Jim dropped his cards.

"Yeah, me too." Garrett's cards hit the table leaving everyone to stare at the Mayor.

He narrowed his eyes, "I see through you Frank, you can't win three hands in a row; no way you top this." He pushed his chips forward, "I see and I raise."

He shook his head; again a hand coming up to scratch his closely cropped hair.

Frank smiled, "Well if you're so confident, let's make it interesting?" He dropped a black chip on the pile. "Raise."

Garrett glanced around the table and Erin leaned forward.

Carter Poole worked his jaw and sighed, dropping his cards to the table, "I'm out."

"Well, it was a good effort." Frank offered with condescension, tossing his cards down.

He looked in Abbey's direction for the first time as he stacked the pot among his chips, "Baker?"

She gestured to her desk, "I just came up for my laptop. Didn't realize the 14th floor became a casino after hours."

"Only occasionally." He nodded with a grin, "You in a rush? There's always space at the table."

"Actually, she can have my space." The mayor offered, backing up his electric wheel chair.

"Not already Mr. Mayor?" Garrett frowned.

Frank leaned back, "You have to at least stick around for a hand with my old man."

The mayor laughed, "I've already played with our former Commissioner. Once was all it took for me to learn my lesson." He smiled, "The only thing I could get out that game would be watching him take all those winnings from you."

Erin snickered and the Commissioner grimaced in her direction.

"Come on over here Abigail." The Mayor offered, further moving away and signaling Garrett to pull in a regular chair, "Just keep your eye on the deck when your boss is dealing."

The Commissioner looked back with a put upon expression, "You calling me a cheater, Mr. Mayor?"

"Not at all Frank." He pacified, pulling out his wallet and handing over a number of bills, "I should know better than to try and bluff a table of cops."

"Welcome to my life." Erin muttered. She turned to smile at Abbey, "No pressure, but I'd love another woman at the table." She looked around at the others in the small room, "Not to mention someone without memories of the Ford administration."

"Hey…" Both Frank and Garrett rebuked in unison. Jim tilted his head in Abbey's direction.

She bit her bottom lip, she really hadn't planned on heading home this early and she _did_ miss the game nights in college and the Academy.

She glanced to the PC. He met her eyes and gave a slight bob and shrug, transmitting she truly was welcome but there were no expectations.

She smiled, "Well, I guess it's fortuitous that I stopped at the ATM earlier this evening." She took off her coat and draped it on the far chair before moving to the space vacated by the mayor, "What's the buy in?"

"Atta girl." Applauded Poole, missing Frank's raised eyebrow, "I will see you all later." He nodded to each as he passed, "Erin, always a pleasure."

The Commissioner waited for the Mayor to leave before looking seriously at Abbey, "Have you played before?"

She swallowed her smile and shrugged, "I've played a few times; mostly college."

"Alright." The Commissioner nodded and gestured to Garrett, "Get another glass for the Detective."

"Ante is $5." He explained as he set her up with a stack of chips, "We don't get too obnoxious here, but it _is_ real money and no one holds back. I don't want you to get uncomfortable. Don't feel like you need to prove anything or keep up."

She frowned, "Thank you sir, I really appreciate that. I'll keep that in mind for sure."

* * *

"Sir, _don't feel like you need to prove anything or keep up_." She advised straight faced as he glared at his cards, flicking his eyes back up and scanning her with a grimace.

She stared back blankly, waiting.

"Raise." He dropped a few more chips into the pot from his pile that had steadily shrunk over the last 4 hands.

She didn't take her eyes off his unflinching face, watching, waiting…

A muscle tensed in his chin and she smirked internally. "See and raise." She pushed the chips in without looking down.

The Commissioner frowned and exhaled through his nose, his eyes narrowing.

"Alright. Call." He huffed, tossing in a final few chips.

Abbey grinned and laid her cards on the table, "Flush; jack high."

"Aw, fer cryn'..." PC muttered and tossed his own cards down, "Take it." He gestured helplessly to the pot.

Even Jim joined Garrett and Erin's laughter at Frank's abrupt change in fortune.

The Commissioner shook his head and scratched behind his ear, "I have a feeling you've played more than just 'a few times in college'."

Abbey shrugged, happily arranging her new winnings into organized stacks, "It was _mostly_ in college. It was hard to get many folks at the academy to agree to play with me after the first few games."

"So I see." He nodded.

She smiled innocently, "I suppose I never mentioned that the 'Ice Queen' nickname was earned over a poker table."

He stared at her for a beat and released a heavy sigh, "No, you failed to mention that." He stood, "I'm getting another bottle."

Erin waited for him to disappear into his office before she reached across the table, "Have I mentioned how happy I am that you joined us?"

"Only after every hand." She smiled back, brushing Garrett away from her shoulder as he attempted to tally her chips.

"I was at your office the other day." She changed the subject, keeping her attention on Erin.

"Oh?" The ADA tilted her head, "You should have stopped by, it's been a while since we've grabbed lunch."

Abbey nodded, "That's actually what I was planning on, but you weren't there." She grinned, "I _did_ notice an awfully impressive bouquet of flowers on the table."

Erin rolled her eyes, "Yeah, must have been more than just a day or two ago. Those are dead now."

"What are?" Frank asked, returning with a new bottle of scotch and a pitcher of water.

"Nothing." "Flowers." Erin and Garrett answered at the same time.

Erin glared at the DCPI and he shrunk back, glancing to Jim to support. The detective just shook his head.

"What flowers?" Frank asked tipping healthy pours into everyone's glass. "From whom?"

"It's not important." She answered through grit teeth.

Abbey winced and mouthed an apology. Erin brushed it away with a resigned roll of her eyes.

Frank settled in to his chair and pursed his lips, considering his daughter. "They wouldn't happen to have anything to do with those mystery dates you've been having?"

"Dad..." She sighed, "Can we just play?" She reached for the cards, but he pulled them away.

"Not your turn to deal, Sweetheart." He began shuffling, "I'm just wondering what's going on with my only daughter. She's seeing someone with enough interest that he brings her flowers at work and that she breaks our dinner plans twice in the past few months but is mysterious enough that she won't tell me who it is..."

He frowned, "Makes me think it's someone I know."

She stared back at him, jaw set.

"Someone you don't think I'd approve of?" He tapped the deck on the table, fidgeting more than shuffling. "Is it a cop?" He squinted, reading her, "No, that's not it." He frowned, "Is it Ronnie Cleary?"

"What?" Erin leaned back.

Frank shrugged, "He moved back to town last fall, and you've said..."

"When I was like _15_ , Dad." She shook her head, "No, gawd, Dad, no." She sighed and looked at him in defeat, "It was Jack."

"Jack who?" He frowned.

She stared back and his eyes opened wide, "Jack _Boyle_?!"

Abbey's eyebrows rose at the admission on Erin's face. She sighed internally, this was _not_ what she intended when she brought up the flowers. Garrett stiffened next to her and Jim was studiously focused on his phone.

"Yes, Dad." Erin sighed. She rolled her eyes, "After the thing at the court house...he was there and it was scary and I think we both thought..." She floundered for the words.

Frank looked down but nodded, eventually looking up and patting Erin's clenched hands comfortingly, "He did good that day."

"Yeah." Erin nodded, "But he's still the same Jack. That's why I kept it quiet from you and from Nicky and also why I broke it off with him over a week ago."

Frank looked her over with a soft grimace, "Well, I'm sorry to hear that."

"Do you really mean that?" Erin looked back, a knowing smile on her lips.

"No." Frank answered immediately, "But I _am_ sorry."

She smiled, "Thanks Dad."

He shrugged, "Hey, what are Dads for other than to pester our children?"

"Careful, Frank." Garrett smirked, "Say that too loud and Henry may never show up."

Frank glanced at his watch, "He said 9; my father is nothing if not punctual."

"Just checking." Garrett further loosened his tie. "Not sure if you two were still fighting."

Frank glared at him over his glasses, clenching his jaw for a moment, "He's coming. You're not hungry already, are you?" He began dealing the cards. "Omaha Hi-Lo, with a buy."

Jim snorted a chuckle and the rest of table stared at him.

"Something to say, Jimmy?" Frank pinned him with a glare.

"No, sir." He shook his head with a smirk.

Garrett leaned back, "I think he's just amused that you're choosing a variation where _two_ players split the pot." He smiled at Abbey, "I wonder what could have changed to make you want to do that."

Abbey blushed but kept focused on the cards in her hand.

"Dealer's Choice." Frank rebuked, "I don't need a reason for calling the game."

"Yeah, right." Erin smiled fanning her cards and looking over them. Her eyes tracked back to her father as they proceeded with the motions of trading in cards, "Why you and Grandpa fighting _this_ time?"

"We're not." Frank shot back returning a card and grabbing another.

Erin glanced back to Garrett.

Garrett shrugged, "Mason Doherty's son is on the job. Henry asked me to pass along a promotion recommendation."

Erin winced, "Ah."

"Exactly." Frank gestured to her, "But it was a couple weeks ago. Over and done with. Pops and I don't hold those kinds of grudges with one another."

" _Most_ times." Erin muttered.

" _All_ times." He defended.

She ignored him, "That's what was wrong at dinner when you two were barely speaking?"

He rolled his eyes, "Two weeks ago. It's over."

"Without needing a ref to force you to apologize to one another?" She smirked, "I'm impressed."

He dismissed her, "No apology necessary. He was wrong and I moved on; as we should now, Erin, your bet."

"Wait, wait, wait…" Garrett leaned on the table, his elbow knocking his scotch. He caught it and looked back up, " _Who_ was wrong? Because unless I'm imagining things, that first round of scotch came from a bottle that _miraculously_ appeared around the time that Jimmy Doherty's promotion was approved."

Erin's eyes arched, "You promoted someone through a hook?"

"No." Frank tilted his head sharply, "I promoted someone who I felt was qualified and deserving after a careful review of his record and after an in person interview." He pointed a finger at Garrett, "Where, by the way, he told me he asked his old man _not_ to talk to Pop."

Garrett relented and turned his attention to his cards but Erin crossed her arms, thinking, "Still, the fact is, he wouldn't have come to your attention at all if it weren't that his father and Grandpa know one another."

Frank's lips rolled and he looked at his daughter, "I know." He exhaled and his shoulders stooped, "And if he wasn't apologetic about it I probably wouldn't have promoted him."

He looked down, "But that would have been wrong. He's a strong cop and will be an asset to the department in his new position." He rubbed his chin, "That shouldn't be negated just because of a relation he can't control."

The table was quiet. Erin's eyes flicked over her father, "You're talking about Jamie."

He looked at her, "Who said anything about Jamie?"

She tilted her head, "A good cop whose value shouldn't be negated because of who he's related to?" She leaned back, pulling her lower lip between her teeth, " _That's_ why you gave him the Michelle Lowe case, to test him."

Frank shook his head.

"Come on, Dad." Erin leaned in.

"I didn't give him the Lowe case to test him." He exhaled and met her eyes, "I did it to test myself."

The admission was quiet and Erin's brow knitted, "What?"

Garrett sighed with a comprehending smile, "You needed to make sure Jamie really is as good as you think he is. That you aren't just biased because you're his father."

Frank shrugged, "Any beat cop who can solve a 10 year old, _closed_ , murder, on his own and without department resources, is someone who has objectively earned a promotion recommendation."

"So you're going to bump him up?" Erin blinked.

"Nope." Frank sorted the cards in his hand, not looking up. "He doesn't know if he wants it." He sighed, "But if he asked I would."

He looked up, silently locking eyes with his daughter.

Erin blinked, "Never thought I'd see the day."

Abbey made passing eye contact with Garrett and Jim. The surprise of Frank Reagan being willing to pull a string for one of his kids flashed across each of their faces.

"Me neither." Frank muttered.

"Well this is the most morose looking poker game I've ever seen!" Henry Reagan ambled in holding two large pizza poxes. "What's going on?"

"Nothin' Pop." Frank greeted his father with a broad closed mouth smile that lifted his cheeks, "What you got?"

Henry evaluated his son before returning the smile and proudly placing the boxes on the table, "Salducci's" He looked around, "Where's Poole?"

"He had to leave." Frank replied shortly, gesturing for Jim to pass one of the pizza boxes down.

"That's too bad." Henry sighed, "I was looking forward to putting him in his place again."

Frank pointed to Abbey, "Baker's taken his place. A new challenge for you."

Henry raised an eyebrow, taking in the sizable stack of chips in front of her. She smiled innocently but the calculating look on the older cop's face told her that she wouldn't have the advantage of being underestimated.

"Interesting…" Henry muttered, removing his jacket, revealing a garish purple and maroon paisley shirt.

"Whoa, Pop." Erin leaned back, " _What_ are you wearing?!"

"It's my lucky shirt." He gestured defensively. "Did I interrupt a game?"

"Not really." Frank sighed, putting down his hand and indicating for everyone to turn in theirs.

Jim tossed his cards up and moved over a chair, offering Henry to take the one closest to his granddaughter. Henry accepted, nodding his appreciation.

"What's been the game?" He looked around the table.

Erin smiled, "Dad had just called Omaha Hi-Lo."

"What?" Henry sneered, "That's a child's game!"

Frank shook his head, chewing on his pizza.

Henry held out a hand, "Turn over the deck, Francis." He looked to Abbey.

She made every effort not to shift in her seat as she had the distinct feeling she was being sized up.

Henry grinned, "Seems like this table is in dire need of a real dealer."

* * *

"That was pretty impressive." Erin offered as she joined Abbey in the elevator.

Abbey shook her head, "Your grandfather basically cleared me of all my winnings."

"True." Erin nodded, "But you made him work for it which is more than most can say." She smiled, "And you and him are the only ones walking out with more than what you walked in with."

"I'll be sure to have you all in my thoughts when I buy a round of ice cream this weekend." Abbey smiled, feeling the $20 bill in her pocket. It was hard to feel satisfied considering she had been up ten times that before the Reagan patriarch joined the table.

Erin grinned, "That's a cause I'm happy to support."

"Oh, and I'm sorry about bringing up the flowers." Abbey winced, "I didn't realize it would devolve into what it did."

"It's fine." Erin sighed, exiting into the parking garage. "I honestly had it coming. It had been going on sporadically for 6 months; it's a miracle Dad hadn't caught on earlier."

Abbey halted by the bumper of Erin's car, "I'm more impressed that you were able to keep Nicky in the dark if you were seeing your ex-husband for 6 months."

"Not really _seeing_." Erin shrugged, "It was more of an arrangement of convenience…fulfilling an occasional need." She smirked, " _If_ you know what I mean."

Abbey smiled, biting her lip, "Understood." She sighed, "Then I'm _really_ sorry you had to break it off."

"Yeah…" Erin fiddled with her keys, "Me too." She looked back up, "But it was good for me to be the one to break it off with him. You know?"

"Yeah, I do." Abbey nodded with a sigh, "I had a hard time with relationships before Brian. Never had the chance to be one to do the dumping."

"Too bad." Erin's smile grew, "It's very liberating."

"I'm a little jealous." Abbey admitted.

Erin frowned, "How _are_ things with Brian?"

"Good. Good." Abbey nodded. She swallowed and looked down, "I mean, when we're together it's great. But..."

"But what?" Erin stepped closer.

Abbey sighed, "All his friends are working for big firms, running around to high end business dinners in expensive suits while Brian is cleaning up spittle and pushing a stroller." She fiddled with the strap of her purse, "He loves Michael and loves being a stay at home dad, but I think he also kind of misses what could have been."

She looked away, "It's not usually bad but this is the time of year when work gets real busy for him and some of that tension occasionally comes to a head." She shrugged, "That's why I didn't really hesitate too much to join the game."

Erin exhaled, long and slow, "I empathize." She nodded, "All my college friends got signed to pretty big firms pretty fast. Watching all of them living that life while I was at home with baby Nicky was difficult." She shrugged, "I always attributed my going back to work as what start the problems between Jack and I but the truth is that I was having problems for a lot longer."

"I can understand that..." Abbey acknowledged with a slow nod.

"Oh, hey, I'm not implying _anything_ about your and Brian's relationship." Erin jumped, resting a hand on Abbey's arm. "Jack and I had all kinds issues, primarily that we didn't have any kind of foundation before we dove right into marriage and parenthood. You and Brian are very different."

Abbey nodded mutely; lips firmly sealed.

Erin sighed, "Now _I'm_ the one who needs to apologize."

"No. No, you're fine." Abbey waved off, "I'm just deep in my own head."

"Well get out." Erin smirked, "Because trust me; getting the chance to dump my commitment averse ex-husband is not even close to making up for all the sucky parts of divorce and being single."

Abbey winced, "Copy that." She consciously relaxed, trying to smile at Erin "I've assumed that staying single has been a conscious choice on your part."

"Maybe." Erin shrugged, "Sometimes, between Nicky and work and family I just don't have the space for anyone else; and I'm not so sure I'm willing to put in the effort to make it."

Abbey nodded, biting the inside of her cheek; she couldn't imagine not having the desire to make space for Brian in her life.

Erin grinned, "Linda, Danny's wife? She set me up with one of those speed dating places; it was intolerable." She looked up slyly, "Though I _do_ have lunch plans tomorrow."

"Oh?" Abbey's eyebrows rose.

"Well, Nicky has plans with friends and just because I don't have space in my life doesn't mean I can't spare an occasional meal for an attractive defense attorney who actually has a soul." She sassed.

"Ha!" Abbey snorted. "Well, you enjoy that. Meanwhile I'll going to see if I can convince my husband to take the weekend off."

"Good." Erin nodded. "And maybe use those winnings for something more fun than ice cream." She winked.

Abbey chuckled, "I'll look into that." She smiled, "Have a good night, and enjoy your lunch!"

"I will." Erin grinned, pulling open the door to her car, "And you get home to that husband of yours!"

Abbey's smile faltered as she headed to her car. Erin was right, maybe she wouldn't rush out in the morning. Her smile returned to her face as she started her car, contemplating the ways she and Brian could put an empty apartment to use.


	53. Prodigal

_A/N - The first half of this chapter takes place in the episode 4.19 Secret Arrangements - After Frank & Danny's fight but before the dinner scene._

 _The second half takes place in 4.20 Custody Battle - After Sunday dinner but before Danny and Jamie's scene at the bar._

* * *

The crisp morning air filled Abbey's lungs and she checked her pace as she passed the distance marker along the Brooklyn Bridge Park promenade.

"Fish! Fish!" Michael shouted from the seat of the jogging stroller, his hands pointing in the direction of the pier.

She smiled and slowed, heading to the far end of the roller rink where she could usually count on a few early morning fisherman willing to indulge her wide eyed toddler.

Turning the corner there was only a single fisherman casting into the river. It took her a few steps, but even in a time-worn field jacket and ball cap she was certain she'd recognize him nearly anywhere.

She approached with a smile, "Aren't you a little far from Bay Ridge, Sir?"

He turned, one eyebrow arching over his sunglasses, "Aren't you a little far from Queens, Detective?"

"Queens?" She tilted her head, "Sir, I haven't lived in Queens since before Brian and I got married."

His smirk fell away, "Oh."

She smiled, "Our apartment is on the edge of Vinegar Hill and Dumbo." She gestured vaguely behind her.

"Dumbo." He muttered, checking his line, "Can't believe that actually caught on; silliest name for a neighborhood." He thumbed over his shoulder, "Jamie's apartment is a few blocks from here; said the stripers were running pretty deep this week." He shrugged, "Figured the few extra miles were worth the extra luck."

"Oh, is he going to be joining you?" She twisted to look down the pier.

He shook his head, "On my own this morning." He looked down to Michael, "Clearing my head a little before church and family dinner."

"Fish!" Michael shouted.

The Commissioner looked down and smiled as she rolled her eyes, "How do you say it _nicely_?"

Michael pouted in clear exasperation and blinked his blue eyes at her, "Mumma - Fish, _peeeze._ "

"I always knew I liked your kid." Her boss grinned, "Already showing signs of the right priorities."

She sighed, "Visiting with the folks who fish here has gotten to be a bit of a habit since the weather started getting nicer." She looked to the cooler at his feet, "Any chance you've caught something he can poke?"

"Poke..." He smirked, "Sounds like my boys at his age." He shook his head, "Unfortunately the only thing in there is some bait. I haven't been catching to keep."

He hesitated, looking at Michael, "But, if he'd like and you're not in a rush, he can hold the rod, do some fishing himself…"

"Sir?"

"Fish PEASE, PEASE." Michael bounced his legs.

"Bring him over here." The Commissioner gestured with his head.

Intrigued, Abbey undid the stroller straps and Michael launched out of his seat.

"Do you want to fish, young man?" The PC smirked as Michael's eyes went wide.

"PEASE!"

Abbey winced as he threaded the rod through the low rungs of the railing and gestured for Michael to grab hold.

"Sir, I don't know how expensive that rod is but I should remind you that he's not even quite two yet." She shook her head, "I would advise against trusting him with it."

He shrugged and looked to Michael, "Can you hold this real tight?"

Michael nodded and the Commissioner straightened, discretely holding the rod steady with a grip on the part that extended through the rail.

He smiled confidently, "I've taught 4 kids and 3 grandkids how to fish, each starting right about his age." He looked down at Michael who was concentrating hard at holding on to the rod. "Only lost a rod and reel once."

Abbey smiled, "Who dropped it?"

"Who do you think?" He grimaced, in her direction. "Danny never had the patience for fishing." He pushed at the bridge of his sunglasses, "Or much else."

He grimaced and checked his watch, "You two are out and about awfully early for a Sunday."

"Michael's an early riser. Weekends I get the early tour." She rolled her shoulders, the sea breeze starting to chill her heated skin, "Trying to let Brian sleep in."

He nodded, and glanced down, "Hey there, Mikey, let's roll it in a little, okay?"

He gripped the rod and moved Michael's hand to the reel and covered it with his own, ratcheting in the line a few clicks and giving it a quick tug.

Michael beamed at his mother, "I fish Mumma."

She bit her lip, "Yes you are."

"Alright, that's good, right there." The Commissioner reset their hold and smiled down at Michael before looking back at Abbey, "Don't let all the talk of the terrible twos scare you; this is one of the best ages."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Yep." He looked over the water, "They're like little sponges. And even if he learns to start talking back, at the end of the day you and Brian will still be his biggest heroes." He frowned, "In the eyes of a two year old, Mom and Dad can do no wrong."

Abbey shifted, having a clearer sense as to _why_ he was compelled to 'clear his head' this morning, "Have you heard anything else from the DA's office?"

The Commissioner glanced at her sideways, "No."

"We going to do anything about it?" She crossed her arms, rubbing away her goosebumps.

"Nothing we can do." He sighed.

"I saw the files from Sergeant Gormley." She tried prompting.

"Yeah, that was a mistake." He exhaled, checking the line.

She frowned, "You found something?"

"Nope." He pursed his lips, "But Danny found out I asked for them."

"Oh." She winced. "So he thought you were checking up on him?"

The Commissioner set his jaw and huffed through his nose, "The files confirmed what I thought; that my son is an expert of negotiating the grey areas." He frowned, "He's always been one to test the rules, find the boundary, step on the line…from when he was this tall." He gestured to Michael.

"And I know I disappoint him that I don't play those games." His lips rolled in, disappearing under his mustache. "But I just can't anymore."

"I can hardly imagine you disappoint him." Abbey defended automatically, surprised at the defeated stoop in his shoulders.

"He is." The PC nodded, "He's always adored his grandfather; as do I; Pop was an excellent cop…" He sighed, "But it was a different age and the things Pop and his buddies talk about just don't work anymore, they _can't_."

She could see him scanning the water from behind his sunglasses.

"My old man romanticizes the old way of doing things and Danny eats it up, tries to follow in his footsteps; has since he was three when Pop gave him his leather slapper."

He shook his head, "Neither of them seem to understand why I don't condone any of it; but I _can't_ and I _won't._ I won't let this department slide back into being what the protestors and media paint us as." He gestured definitively, "Cops can't get physical with suspects, promotions cannot just go to the guys with hooks and I _can't_ talk about ongoing investigations."

Abbey blinked, "You didn't tell Detective Reagan you're not the one prompting the investigation?"

"No." He pouted, leaning on the rail.

She shifted, "Sir, I understand not being able to talk about the investigation itself but would it really be so bad to just say where it was coming from?"

"Shouldn't have to!" He shot back, frustration creeping into his tone. His chest rose with a deep breath, "I have _never_ given my kids any reason not to trust me. If my word isn't good enough for him then whatever assumptions he makes are all on him."

She looked down, not feeling comfortable giving voice to her disagreement.

"Hey!" The Commissioner called out, pulling her attention the same time Michael shouted and let go of the rod as it began to shake and pull.

The PC's grip saved the rig from a watery demise and he readjusted it back over the top rail and situated himself behind Michael, bending over and encouraging her son to 'help' reel in whatever was pulling the line.

Shortly a flapping silver fish was appearing from the water.

"Come on Mikey, we almost have it." The PC grinned as Michael clapped eagerly, covering his mouth with his fingers and looking up to Abbey in amazement.

She nodded, "Good job buddy. You caught a fish."

"My fish!" He shouted, pointing as the Commissioner brought the end of the rod over the rail and lay the small fish on the cement.

Michael reached out to touch it but jumped back as it thrashed.

The Commissioner pulled a rag from his pocket and used it to hold the fish still.

"Congratulations Mike, you caught a herring." He explained as he removed the hook.

Michael looked on with a serious expression. " 'Ring." He repeated.

"Yeah." The PC nodded with a smirk, holding the fish.

Michael frowned, " 'Ring bleed!" He backed up and reached for Abbey's hand, "Fish ouchie hurt Mumma."

She smiled and knelt, "No baby, it's okay. Just a little cut."

"Yeah, he's fine, see his tail flapping?" Frank held out the fish, "You want to touch him?"

Michael took a tentative step forward, extending a hand to lightly poke at the top of the fish's head. He grinned and looked between the two adults. Then, before Abbey could stop him, Michael leaned in and kissed the fish. "Feel bedda, 'Ring."

"Ugh…" Abbey groaned even as the Commissioner chuckled.

"I bet he feels a _lot_ better now." He praised, "You ready to let him go?"

Michael's eyes grew wide, "Go?"

"Yeah." The PC nodded, "Back swimming with his friends."

"Fish go home wid me?" Michael frowned and looked to Abbey.

She shook her head and rubbed his hair, "We don't have anything to keep him in and he'd be lonely. He needs to go back to his Mumma and Daddy."

Her son considered her with amusing solemnity until he turned and nodded his approval, " 'Ring needs Mumma."

"Good choice." The PC approved with a grin, "Ready?"

Michael nodded, and the Commissioner gestured for him to join him as he released the fish back into the river.

"Bye 'Ring! Bye!" Michael looked through the rail and waived.

"Good job." The PC nodded, "First catch. Now you're a real fisherman."

Michael looked up, awe on his face. He looked to Abbey, "I fishman, Mumma."

Abbey picked him up and kissed his cheek, "Yes you are baby." She mock glared at the PC, "What have you started with my son?"

A broad grin deepened his dimples and wrinkled his eyes, "The kid already had the instinct." He tilted his head to make eye contact with Michael, "Your boy's a natural."

Abbey kissed the side of Michael's head to hide the irrepressible smile the Commissioner's rare grin prompted in her.

Too soon it faltered and fell, replaced with a wistful expression, "Such a great age." He reaffirmed. "Mike actually really reminds me of Jamie when he was little."

"Yeah?" Abbey raised an eyebrow, putting Michael back down.

"The focus and compassion…" He smirked, "But he would never touch a fish at that age, nevermind kiss it."

"Uck." She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, I'll be scrubbing his face pretty raw when we get home."

"Consider yourself lucky." He shook his head, "The first time I told Danny he couldn't keep a fish he tried to hide it in his shirt. Slime and fish stink everywhere. His mother made me throw out his outfit."

"I wan fish more." Michael tugged on the Commissioner's jeans and gestured to the rod.

The PC grinned but Abbey sighed, "I think once is enough for today." She held out her hand, "How about you say thank you to Commissioner Reagan?"

Michael gave an exaggerated pout but looked up, " 'ank you fishing Ishner Aigan."

"Your very welcome." He nodded, "You can fish with me anytime."

Michael grinned and looked to Abbey as if to be certain she heard it. She sighed, "It seems we'll be picking up one of those kiddie rods sooner than later."

"My job here is done." The Commissioner gloated, watching as she strapped Michael back into the stroller.

"Look at that thing," He commented, "I used to cut leg holes in a regular backpack to carry my kids around because the strollers were too flimsy. You could take that thing to the frontlines."

She shrugged, "It is pretty great. Not to mention pushing him doubles the workout; half the distance."

"Yeah, well I think I'll stick to fishing for my early morning exercise." He grinned, picking his rod back up.

"Yes, Sir." She indulged.

He smiled and pulled a small tupperware of bait out of the cooler, resetting the hook.

She hesitated, "Sir, about Detective Reagan…"

He paused his movements and looked back to her.

She swallowed, "I could find a way for him to become aware of the source of the investigation."

"You'll do no such thing." He retorted immediately before sighing, "But thank you for offering."

She looked back, steadfast, "I'd like to help if I can."

"Have a good Sunday, Detective." He dismissed with a sigh and a nod in Michael's direction, "Take as much advantage of these times as you can."

"Yes, Sir." She accepted, "Enjoy your Sunday."

She turned the stroller back in the direction of home as the Commissioner cast his line back into the water.

* * *

"Is that Dino over there?" Garrett elbowed Abbey and gestured to the corner of the room where a balding man could be seen blatantly flirting with a table of young women.

Abbey nodded, sipping her beer, "He and Laura divorced 18 months ago."

"Rebounding." Garrett smirked, turning back to the bar, "Good for him."

"Yeah." Abbey shrugged non-committedly.

Garrett tilted his head, "What's with that?"

She shrugged, "Nothing. Just…" She sighed, "I kind of miss Chief Hines."

Garrett glanced back over his shoulder, "What's wrong with Arbogast?"

She glared at him for a beat, checking to make sure they couldn't be heard, "Nothing really. Just…" She winced, "His style I guess? He's high strung. Everything he brings to the PC is at level 10. Hines just churned through things; got it done orderly and quietly with no fuss."

"Well at least they both have a better sense of humor than Bell did." Garrett offered.

Abbey sipped her beer in place of replying. She was not a fan of Chief Bell but didn't feel compelled to explain it to Garrett.

Garrett looked down, "So…things still tense when you left this evening?"

"You could say that." She nodded. "He was doing that thing where he just sits in there, not really working?"

"Sulking." Garrett offered, "What he does is sulk."

"That sounds petulant." She defended.

"But it's true." He rebutted, "Again I am forced to remind you that the Reagan pedestal you've erected in your mind is not reflective of reality."

"I hate it when you do that." She muttered.

"Offer perspective?" Garret guessed.

"Make it sound like I have none of my own." She shot back. "Like I'm not aware the man has flaws. "

"Sometimes…" Garrett tipped his beer.

"It's called loyalty and choosing to focus on the good instead of constantly characterizing someone by their shortcomings." She rebuked.

Garrett shook his head, "Hey, I feel loyalty too, you know I do. I'd even go so far as to call Frank a friend. But sometimes he needs a little reminding of reality." He smirked, "Though I suppose I would need to keep up your way of looking at things if I had to fill your shoes."

Abbey crossed her legs, "I'm wearing 3 inch pumps today, I'd very much like to see you in my shoes."

Garrett rolled his eyes.

"Hey." A familiar voice interrupted, "Where's the Commish?"

Abbey turned to see Danny Reagan approaching from the front of the bar.

She looked to Garrett who looked back to her with a raised eyebrow before he shook his head at Danny, "Back at the office last we knew. It's just Baker and I shooting the breeze here tonight."

Danny frowned and looked at his watch.

Abbey straightened, "Is something wrong?"

"No, nah. Nothing." Danny waived her off, "I had asked if he wanted to meet up tonight and he said he'd be here."

"Well we weren't expecting him but you're welcome to have a seat with us while you wait?" Garrett offered.

Danny glanced around the room one last time before nodding, "Yeah, sure. Why not?" He settled onto the stool around the corner of the bar next to Abbey and grabbed the bartender's attention.

Garrett looked him over, "So, you called your old man?"

"Yeah." Danny shrugged, "I know he usually blows of some steam with Erin when things get messy but he can't exactly do that with this Collins / Cutter thing." He smirked, accepting his beer, "I'm playing back up."

Abbey smiled as Danny tried to portray an air of nonchalance but she knew the rarity with which the PC and his eldest shared an evening together and considering the tensions of the previous week she was pleased to see the development.

Danny narrowed his eyes at her, "What?"

"Nothing." She shook off.

He smirked, "Yeah right, 'nothing'. What is it?"

She shrugged, redirecting, "The DA's investigation over?"

Danny looked back, his beer stilled midway to his mouth and the corner of his lip turned in an understanding smirk.

"Don't really know, don't really care." He nodded and sipped his drink, "I trust the folks at 1PP to back us lowly squad detectives."

Abbey smiled and took a long drink from her own bottle. She had hoped the Commissioner had come to an understanding with his son prior to the events that now seemed to be causing a rare rift between him and Erin.

She sat back, quietly listening as Danny and Garrett began debating the NBA playoffs and the Knicks' dismal season.

It wasn't long before she heard the familiar heavy footsteps before she saw the Commissioner approaching. He hesitated a beat, eyes taking in Abbey and Garrett next to his son.

Danny noted the hesitation as well and leaned back with a shrug and a grin, "You were late; I had to find other people to drink with."

The PC rolled his eyes and claimed the empty seat on Danny's right, "You get more and more like your grandfather every day."

Danny shrugged, "Nah, he'd have my hide too; I was also late; came in just a couple minutes ago."

His father gave an amused huff while loosening his tie and gesturing to the bartender, "So what were you two talking about with such animation?"

"Certainly not Erin or Officer Cutter." Danny smirked.

Frank glared at him before looking away, picking up his beer. "Your sister really believes she's right, y'know." He muttered, "She's not backing down, certain that something nefarious went on."

"Doesn't the M.E.'s report make that pretty much a non-issue? It's the context we're talking about here." Danny shrugged, "And for that we gotta take Cutter's word on it."

"Unless your sister's right, he's covering and his partner saw it." Frank gestured, leaning his elbows on the bar.

Danny gestured with his beer bottle, "But she says she didn't and even if she did, no cop is going to rat on her partner."

"Can we just...not?" Frank grimaced, his hands flexing around his glass.

Danny frowned and looked down for a beat, "You talk to her?"

The PC shook his head, not looking up, "Not since she left the house last night."

Danny's eyebrows fluctuated and his jaw tightened as he looked at his dad.

"What?" Frank leaned back.

"Nothing." Danny shrugged, "It's just kind of interesting being on this side of it; usually _I'm_ the one you're fighting with."

Frank's face contorted, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Danny gestured, beer bottle still in hand, "I just mean, that of the four of us, I'm the one whose spent the most time in your dog house. This is a new perspective for me is all."

"That's not true." Frank shook his head.

"Sure is." Danny nodded, "When's the last time you were fighting with Erin?"

"Try every other Sunday." Frank shot back.

Danny rolled his eyes, "Doesn't count. I mean like fight, fight; actually get on one another's nerves."

Frank frowned in thought before he tapped the bar and pointed, "When she was dating that guy."

" _That_ guy, Dad? Really?" Danny shook his head, "You mean _anytime_ she's dating _any_ guy. And that's not fighting, that's fatherly concern."

"It's all concern." Frank muttered, leaning forward on the bar again.

"Yeah?" Danny raised an eyebrow.

"Of course!" Frank sighed, "You think when _we_ fight I'm coming from anywhere but concern for you?"

"I dunno," He shrugged, "Sometimes I really screw up."

"Yeah. You do." Frank nodded, "And _when_ you do _I_ worry about what that means for your career and your family and why you're screwing up and what I could have done along the history of your life to prevent it."

"Really?"

" _Yes._ " He emphasized, "I _told_ you...I would _never_ come down against you on anything. You just don't make it easy sometimes. And as your father, I assume a certain level of responsibility for that."

Danny leaned back, shaking his head, "I'm a grown man. My choices are my own, Dad. You're not responsible for what I do."

Frank shrugged, "So when do you see yourself not feeling responsible for Jack?"

Danny's mouth slacked opened, wordless.

Frank smirked and tipped his glass in a gesture of victory.

Conceding, Danny leaned forward on his forearms, mirroring his father's position."You ever fight with Joe or Jamie like this?" He asked with feigned disinterest,

"Differently." Frank nodded slowly. He looked down, "The last big one I had with Joe was when he wanted to join the warrant squad."

"Yeah, me too." Danny nodded.

"He told me." Frank smirked, "He accused me of sic'ing you on him." He took in a deep breath through his nose, "I've had my moments with all of you through the years. Erin a little less since the divorce...and since she stopped trying to put me in between her and Nicky's disputes."

He frowned, "Jamie, maybe a little less so." He looked over, prepared for the inevitable eyeroll from Danny.

"Really? No blow ups with golden boy? I'm _shocked_."

Frank shook his head, "It's not what you think, we've had our moments…"

"But what?" Danny pressed.

Frank shrugged, "Your brother just backs down faster than the rest of you." He took a sip, "I don't know why. Maybe it's because I wasn't around as much when he was little or because of the positions I've held since he was a teen but usually all I get from him is a hint of an attitude, a little testiness and then he clams up."

"Maybe he's actually learned something from me." Danny grinned into his drink, "Keeping quiet is the safe route to self preservation."

Frank didn't react and Danny frowned. "What?"

He shrugged, "Maybe that's it but I can't seem to shake the feeling that at some level it's just that he's not comfortable fighting with me."

"Well it's not _comfortable_ for any of us." Danny dismissed.

"That's maybe not the right word." Frank sighed, "It takes a certain level of confidence and trust to go in on a family member and I don't know, it's like Jamie just doesn't have that with me...or he doesn't want to test it."

He rubbed at the back of his neck, "I think it might be changing though. He's grown a lot these past few years; your mother and Joe were the biggest influences in his life and I think he's been slowly working out who he is for himself, really coming into his own." He smirked, "Someday that patience of his is going to run out and I'll catch it for sure."

Danny grinned, "I've had the bruises to prove that he's got a healthy dose of the Reagan temper."

"I don't really need to hear that." Frank shook his head.

Danny grinned and drank more of his beer.

Frank lifted his chin, "Speaking of kids, how're my grandsons doing?"

Danny winced, "Jack's still struggling in math and science. We got the midterm report and it doesn't look like much has gotten better since last semester."

"Math has always been a sticking point for this family." Frank shrugged, "Even the ivy-leaguers."

"Yeah." Danny frowned, "Just kind of hoped that was one of the Reagan genes he _wouldn't_ get."

Frank nodded, "What about Linda? She's got a knack for numbers and I mean, nurse, science...she must have some strength there too, right?"

"She does." Danny agreed, "She helps when he lets her but there's only so much she can do and she's already carrying so much just running the family; it doesn't seem fair to put the boy's grades on her too."

"It's worth saying again, wives of cops have the toughest role." The PC affirmed. Glancing over he made eye contact with Abbey, "I suppose I should say _spouses_ of cops."

She grinned in return, "I won't argue with you." Her smile wavered, "And I'm certain Brian wouldn't either."

"How about spouses of people who aren't actually cops but work for the department?" Garrett interjected.

Frank shook his head, "You cause your own problems Garrett, don't be blaming the department."

Abbey snickered and looked down. "Traitor." Garrett grumbled at her.

"Hey, I'm buying your drink." She defended.

"Yeah, because you're still crawling out of your babysitting debt with me." He retorted.

Danny's brow knit, "I have a feeling I don't really want to know what that's about."

"You really don't." Garrett confirmed. "But all jokes aside," He leaned forward, "I understand what your going through with Jack. We've been having some issues with Sam and I try to help how I can but most of the time it's fallen on Cynthia to do the heavy lifting."

"It's hard." Frank agreed. "You try to do best by your family but sometimes that means not being there for them in the way you'd most like."

"So it's important to take advantage of the times you can?" Abbey echoed in his direction.

He paused; meeting her eyes, "Exactly." He lifted his glass and took a drink.

"So what's that mean when you're fighting with your kid?" Danny raised an eyebrow at his father.

Frank looked back at him, sighed, scratched at the side of his face and looked away, "Find a way to fix it, I guess."


	54. Disconcertion

_A/N SEASON FINALE DAY! Season 7 finale will be on the tv tonight and this chapter is all in / following the season finale of season 4 - Exiles._

 _Side note - we're about to head into that long drought when no new episodes will be on tv. I've had a couple of conversations where folks have asked / implied they'd like to borrow head cannon / original characters from this story - if you're a writer and find yourself inspired please steal away from me; I just want new fic to read!_

* * *

The blush rapidly rose up the back of Abbey's neck as the graphic contents of the DVD became clear.

"Turn it off." The Commissioner muttered with dark finality.

Garrett scrambled for the remote, hitting pause and freezing the Chief of Department's face before the screen went dark. He and Abbey made brief eye contact before they both turned their attention to the Commissioner who remained standing, both hands braced on the desk as his lips rolled and his eyes stormed in thought.

"Where'd you get this?" Garrett asked.

The Commissioner ignored him and looked to Abbey, "Baker." His voice was rough.

"Yes Sir?" Her jaw tightened and her stomach clenched.

He gestured to the phone on the desk, "Get Sergeant Gormley on the phone."

Taking a breath she stepped forward and picked up the handset, dialing the familiar number for the 5-4.

" _NYPD - 54th Precinct. Officer Clemens._ " A voice answered.

"This is Detective Baker from the Commissioner's office." She recited the familiar phrase, "Is Sergeant Gormley available to speak to the PC?"

" _I'll put you through Ma'am._ " The line clicked and beeped, " _Gormley._ "

"Hold for the Commissioner." The words clipped out of her mouth and she handed over the handset to the PC who had not moved from where he stood, seething.

"Sergeant; restore Detective Reagan to full duty immediately and then tell him to get his ass to my office." He slammed the phone down without waiting for a response and picked up his cell phone, pressing a speed dial.

It did not take long for whomever he dialed to pick up. "What did your boss say when you cornered her about the complaint against your brother?"

He listened for a long beat, nodding once. "Do me a favor. Stay in the office a little while longer; either Danny or I will call you in a little bit." He pulled the phone away from his ear, but Erin was still speaking and he brought it back up, "No. Don't worry. Okay. Later."

He hung up and inhaled, eyes still averted.

Eventually he looked to Garrett, "You have, at best, 2 hours to come up with a statement explaining the resignation or firing of the Chief of Department."

"Frank…" Garrett stepped forward, "Are you certain about this? Do we even know if the source of this disc is credible?"

"It's credible." The Commissioner nodded. He turned his attention to Abbey, "Ask the Chief to report to this office _now_. When Detective Reagan gets here have him wait outside until I call him in."

* * *

30 minutes later Abbey watched from her desk as Danny led Chief Arbogast into the conference room. Danny pulled out a notepad as they settled into facing chairs, the Chief's eyes continuously averted.

Her intercom buzzed and she breathed deep, wholly uncertain what she'd find when she reentered the office.

She hovered by the door, eyes locked on the Commissioner who stood at the corner of his desk, absently spinning his wedding ring; his mouth tight and eyes roving around the room.

"Sir?"

"Chief Arbogast is going to be submitting his resignation to you when he's done with Detective Reagan."

"Yes, Sir." She nodded. He didn't say anything else or move from where he stood and she hesitated to leave. "Do you need anything?"

He shook his head.

She frowned, he appeared visibly distressed by the events of the evening. Refraining a sigh, she decided to signal her support in the simplest way she knew, "I'll be at my desk."

"Detective."

She stopped, and turned back from her hand on the handle.

He stared at her for a long moment, seemingly boring a hole with his gaze.

Without clear impetus, something clicked and he seemed to visibly drain, weariness defining his features. "You know you could come to me if you were in trouble, right?"

She tilted her head and stepped forward, "Sir?"

He worked his jaw, "If something happened, if you were in over your head, would you come to me?" His brow was heavy and Abbey could sense the weight he placed upon her answer.

She blinked, "Um, well…I mean, I guess it depends on what it was."

His shoulders dropped and he looked down, nodding.

"Sir?"

He shook his head, and gestured at the darkened television, "This whole thing happened because Dino was too ashamed to come to me." He frowned, "Last year ago Garrett nearly resigned because he wasn't comfortable asking for help." He looked up, "I guess I just hadn't realized I was so unapproachable."

She took two quick steps to stand behind the visitor chairs, "You're not...I mean; you're very approachable, sir."

"Apparently not." He sighed, pacing to the other corner of the desk.

"I'm certain Chief Arbogast and DCPI Moore were just hung up on their pride." She shook her head, "It is _absolutely not_ a reflection on how you run this office."

The Commissioner looked out the window, "Dino said something the other day that I didn't think much of until now."

She stood silent, waiting.

He turned back to face her, "He was surprised that I wasn't enthusiastic about a sting on the prostitution ring because of my faith."

She resisted the instinct to roll her eyes but something must have shown on her face.

"What?"

She shrugged, "There are plenty of men of faith who deviate from the path not infrequently. If he tried laying this at the feet of your Catholicism it was a cop out."

He frowned, "Why?"

Abbey exhaled and bit her lip, considering her words, "If he was intimidated it wasn't by your faith." She met his eyes, "It was your integrity."

His eyebrows rose.

"You've said it yourself;" She tried to explain, "You hold yourself and the department to a higher standard than some understand. Some may resent it as righteousness but even those of us who understand and admire you for it can be somewhat intimidated because it can highlight how we are less successful at maintaining our own principles."

"You?" He pursed his lips, "You don't think you successfully hold yourself to a high standard?"

"I try too…but I'm not always successful. " She admitted.

He stepped back to the desk, bracing his hands on his chair, "How so?"

She shrugged, "Little things. Gossip is the one I feel most guilt about. Not a lot, and I keep close holds on everything that happens in this office but..." She sighed, willing herself not to blush, "People will tell me things thinking it gives them an in with me or that I might return the favor. I don't discourage it." She frowned, "I tell myself that keeping my ear to the ground is a way I can serve this office; but really it's just a guilty pleasure."

She looked down to escape the impassive expression on his face. "And I think you know that I'm more inclined to support bending the rules or leaning a little more old school than you are. But I'm not the PC; neither the press nor the mayor is analyzing my every move and I'm not held up as a role model for the department. "

"Some role model if I'm intimidating." He scoffed.

"You weren't intimidated by your role models?" She grasped her hands in front of her, "People you looked up to but whom you doubted you could ever be as good as?"

He dropped into his chair, fingers threading together in front of his chin.

He frowned, "I'd hope that you'd come to me. Regardless of whatever the kind of trouble is. I'd hope that you'd come to me before you acted on your own." He looked up, making eye contact and she was struck by his earnestness, nearly pleading for her promise to come to him.

She nodded, "I would."

He rubbed at his chin, "I consider us family. I mean; work family…but it's a kind of family. And family means being there for one another, regardless of what trouble you've gotten into. No judgment."

She clenched her jaw to keep her chin from trembling and nodded sharply. "Copy that."

He huffed and deflated with an exhale.

Sensing he was done, she turned to leave but hesitated by the door, turning back to face him. He looked up, waiting.

She glanced in the direction of the conference room, "If it's any conciliation I'm sure he didn't realize."

"Didn't realize what? That he was digging himself into a hole when he accepted a prostitute in exchange for professional services or when he covered up the illegal actions of a bureau chief or when he unjustifiably implicated my son in furtherance of that cover up?"

She looked down a beat, "No, sir, I just meant…" She sighed, "He didn't realize how you view the team here…he didn't realize you would take it as a _personal_ betrayal."

"Well, he knows now." He rolled his lips tight and clenched his hands.

"Yes, Sir. I'm sorry." She paused, "I'll be at my desk."

"Thank you, Abigail."

The words were quietly uttered and she swallowed her smile, looking back before she closed the door behind her, "You're welcome, Commissioner Reagan."

* * *

"Happy Mother's Day." Brian leaned over the table to kiss the corner of lips after the waiter placed down their dessert plates.

She smirked, "You know you're nearly a week late, right?"

"Hey, life gets the upper hand sometimes." He shrugged.

Her smirk faded and she looked back at him, "Yes it does." She glanced around the candle-lit bistro, "But I think we're doing a good job of holding our own."

He nodded and looked down, stabbing at his cheesecake with his fork, "Look, I know it wasn't an easy couple of months."

She shook her head, "We don't need to talk about it here and now."

"I know." He nodded, looking back to her, "But I want to tell you something."

She frowned, her pragmatism not being strong enough to keep her stomach from clenching.

"Look," He sighed, "I know I was pretty distant and short tempered for a while."

"I was distant too." She leaned forward.

He waived away her attempt to shoulder the blame, "This is about what I did."

She swallowed.

He sighed, "I took on a new account."

"Wait." She furrowed her brow, "What?"

He smiled, "This year I handled all of the NYU account. You know I've been chipping away at it for it the past few years and I finally got it. The whole thing."

She blinked, "Congratulations Honey…" She smiled, but it felt forced, as she tried to reconcile the pieces of the conversation.

He shook his head, "What I'm saying is that I was testy because I wanted to do well, give 110% and prove myself so I could keep the account." He grinned, "And I just got word this week that they like what I did and want me to stay on."

"Oh…Okay, that's good." She nodded.

"Honey." He grinned, "You don't follow what this means for us, do you?"

"No…not really." A self –conscious smile flit across her face.

He leaned back, "It means a lot more financial stability."

She straightened, "What do you mean by that?"

"I _mean_ ," He leaned forward, "We can finally buy a house. A good one, in a nice neighborhood with plenty of space and even a yard. The commission from this year alone puts us well over the top; we won't even need to use all of what we've so far saved for a really good down payment; the rest can all be rolled into what we've been putting aside for Michael's education."

Her jaw slacked, "Really?"

"Really." He nodded, "And yes, it means more work for me February through April every year but it also means that if you can't take the time or we don't want to call your mother, we can afford to hire a Nanny or childcare without it being a burden."

He smiled and leaned in, "It _also_ means we could handle the expense of giving our boy a little brother or sister."

"Jesus…" She exhaled, "Brian…."

He leaned back, grinning.

She shook her head, heart brimming, "You seem awfully proud of yourself."

He shimmied his head, "I am." He shrugged, "Hey you know I'm as quick to buck convention as anyone, I mean, my wife is the working cop and I'm the stay at home parent, but…." He leaned in, his voice going low, "I can't deny it's a bit of a turn on to be able to provide for my family."

She reached out and touched his face, "It's a bit of a turn on for me too you know."

He straightened and poured the remaining wine out of the bottle on the table, "Then let's hurry and finish this dessert so we can get home!"

She grinned and dug into her apple crisp with gusto until she noticed something out of the corner of her eye that had her fork stilling in her hand.

"Abs?" Brian questioned.

She shook her head and looked away holding up the drink menu to hide her face as the maître de guided Commissioner Reagan and Kelly Peterson toward the dinning room.

Brian looked around trying to see what had caught her attention.

"Psst! Stop that!" She slapped at his knee.

He looked back to her, "Are you _hiding_ from _Reagan_?" He whispered.

She nodded, groaning internally as he and the recently former Inspector General were seated at the table directly behind Brian. Luckily, the PC was enough of a cop that he sat facing the door, keeping his back was to them.

Brian's face scrunched in amused confusion, "Why?"

She sighed and gestured for him to lean close so she could whisper, "The woman he's with? That was the inspector general up until this week. She _just_ resigned out of nowhere."

"So? Two folks who used to work together are out to dinner." Brian dismissed.

She shook her head, "They _infuriated_ each other…but now, she no longer has an oversight position and he has no reason to see her professionally...and... they are out to dinner, 8pm on a Friday night… _here_?" She pointedly looked around the romantic ambiance.

A wicked grin crossed Brian's face. "Niiiice."

Abbey slapped his knee again.

The grin remained firmly affixed, "What do you think they're up to?" He asked her.

"So you going to tell me what this is about, Frank?" Kelly's distinctive voice carried over Brian's shoulder with the same question.

Abbey watched as the PC responded with a shrug, "It's dinner."

"Sure it is." Kelly crossed her arms.

He was quiet as the waiter returned with their drinks.

"Frank...?" She pushed him again once the young man had stepped away.

He looked into his scotch, "I felt bad I had to leave...that night when you gave me the disc?"

Her eyebrows rose but she said nothing.

Abbey watched as he shifted in his seat.

"If I didn't have to work I would have stayed." He explained.

Kelly smirked, "You're assuming I would have let you."

"Kelly." He ground out.

"Fine." She sighed, "But you know, it's also very likely that if I didn't already know you had to go back to work, I wouldn't have told you what I did."

Frank leaned forward, "But you _did._ "

"I did." She affirmed. "So is _that_ what this is? You want to say what you would have said that night?"

He sat back, inhaling deeply and looking down. He spoke without raising his head, "You confused me."

"I thought I was pretty clear." Kelly retorted, sipping on her gin.

"The other night? Debatable." Frank paused and Kelly smirked. "But I was talking about Friday afternoon."

Kelly put down her drink and straightened, "What was confusing about that?"

"Why you said any of it." He muttered it so low that even less than 6 feet behind him Abbey barely heard it.

Kelly sighed and looked down, finger tracing the table top, "You made me sad, Frank."

He didn't say anything and her shoulders stooped, "I don't really know what made me say it aloud but while we were talking it struck me that you must live a lonely life."

"Lonely?" Frank shook his head, "I'm _never_ alone. I'm surrounded by people at work and constantly being bothered by my father at home. Half the nights one of my kids swings by with some problem or another..." He leaned back, gesturing," Hell, I don't even get to be alone during my commute; at minimum I've got one, most times, two, detectives with me everywhere I go."

He shook his head and sipped his drink, "Lonely…some days it would be nice to be _more_ lonely."

"Who are you trying to convince?" Kelly watched him with steadfast attention. "It's even sadder knowing you're constantly surrounded by people but still isolated."

"What makes you so sure you have any idea what you're talking about?" He volleyed, taking a defensive sip of his drink.

She rolled her eyes and leaned forward, elbows on the table. "How many times have we gone out to dinner to discuss items that most people handle in an office?"

"I work long hours. And I don't like to skip dinner." He leaned further back.

She grinned knowingly, resting her chin in her palm, "I think you're lonely. I think arguing with me over dinner in a nice restaurant made you feel less so."

He was quiet for a long moment, crossing his arms, "We didn't always argue."

"Exactly my point." She picked up her glass.

He huffed. "Which was, what, exactly?"

"Don't play dumb." Her glass paused on the way to her lips, "I've spelled out enough for you."

He was quiet for a long time. She placed her glass back down and stared at him.

He sighed and considered the tablecloth, "Despite all you've said, you're leaving."

"You'd have me stay?" Kelly blinked, incredulous, "Continue being the Inspector General? Looking over your shoulder and questioning departmental decisions?"

"That's not…" He sighed and looked around to the neighboring tables.

Instinctively, Abbey shrunk back.

Kelly's eyes didn't leave Frank's face, "What are we doing here?"

"I thought it was obvious; drinking." He grumbled into his glass.

"Frank…" Kelly sighed.

"I don't know." He breathed out.

"Well _that's_ a first." She relished.

His head gave a small shake, "No…it's really not."

She crossed her arms, "I've heard nothing from you since that night but as soon as my resignation is finalized you call. Why is that?"

"I've been busy." He chafed. "Didn't you hear? Just lost my Chief of Department."

She raised an eyebrow until he relented with a sigh.

"We've worked together for a while." He shrugged, "It seemed appropriate to acknowledge the moment. Buy you a farewell drink."

"Is that what this is?" She lifted her glass pointedly, "A farewell drink? See ya? Bon Voyage?"

He didn't say anything but Abbey could see his neck tense as he clenched his jaw.

Brian leaned forward whispering, "This is pretty entertaining! Who is this lady again?"

Abbey glared, "Will you just go get our check? Discretely?"

Brian play frowned and gestured to his plate where he still had some cheesecake left.

With a roll of her eyes she reached across the table, stabbed it with her own fork and placed the remaining bit in her mouth.

Her husband glared at her, "You're lucky you're sexy."

"Let's get out of here, _please_?" She whisper pleaded.

Brian gave an understanding nod and stood to seek out their waiter, leaving Abbey with an unobstructed view of the table behind his chair. She rubbed at her forehead, obscuring her face.

Looking through her fingers she realized she needn't have worried; Kelly's eyes were laser focused on the Commissioner.

He finally caved, "Look,…it's just…I enjoy talking with you." He admitted as if it were a deep, painful secret.

"You mean arguing." Kelly smirked.

"Whatever." Frank shook his head and looked away again.

She narrowed her eyes and leaned forward, resting her chin on her interlocked hands, "You're one of _those_ aren't you?"

"One of what?" His head snapped back.

"A Momma's boy who likes argumentative women." She cracked.

His head tilted, "I thought proper nomenclature was _strong_ women?"

"You're not going to argue the Momma's boy?" Her eyebrows arched.

"I don't see anything wrong with respecting the woman who raised me." He dismissed with a shrug.

"Mhrm." Kelly grinned.

"Look…I'm just…." He tensed again, clasping and releasing his hands. He huffed shortly, "You're the one who started this you know."

"And trust me when I say I'm not enjoying myself." She straightened, "This is like pulling teeth. Frank, _you_ called _me_. You made me spell it out the other night; now it's your turn to tell me why."

He froze, then shifted. He looked down and over, inhaling through his nose and exhaling with a long slow sigh. Eventually he looked back to Kelly, "I had fun that time you invited me in to watch the football game."

She blinked, "You mean when you fell asleep?"

He shrugged, "Okay..I enjoyed myself _before_ I fell asleep." He looked down and his voice went quiet again, "I don't have many opportunities to have fun and relax like that."

Compassion shone from Kelly's dark eyes, "I'm sure there are any number of people who would be happy to watch a football game with you; family? Coworkers?"

"Sure." He nodded, "But as you've pointed out; it's something different, being a father, a son, or a boss."

Kelly's eyes flicked away, biting the inside of her lip.

"You called yourself my friend." Frank laid out, practically accusingly.

Her eyes flashed back, "I did."

"I don't have friends." He looked down.

"So you said." Her eyes scanned his face.

"I have folks with whom I've maintained _friendships_...but I'm their boss first. There's always…something else." He shrugged, "And maybe…I realize some of the value in what you said…and that friendship is not something to be dismissed when offered."

She released the pressure she had been placing on her lips and nodded, "Okay."

"That's it?" He straightened, "Okay?"

"What else did you expect?" She looked piercingly at him.

He gestured in her direction, "You sure had plenty to say the other day."

"And I said it then." she shot back. Kelly sighed and leaned forward, "Frank. Look, I'm not complaining. I'm happy to be here. But neither of us have improved in the small talk department."

"So then let's not have any small talk." He challenged.

Kelly leaned back, eyes flicking up and down, "That might get dangerous."

Abbey felt a blush begin to raise up her neck at the undertones in the older woman's voice.

"I'm a cop." Frank leaned forward, matching tone, "I'm trained to handle dangerous situations."

"That may be so." She smiled, also leaning forward, "But I have questions which I doubt you're going to like."

"Try me." His voice was low in a new way and Abbey shifted, desperately looking around for Brian to return.

Kelly looked down, spinning her glass, "So, you're really not in anyone's black book?"

"No." He affirmed.

"What has it been, Frank? 8 or 10 years?" She grinned to him, "You've what? Just kept to yourself?"

He forced a cough, straightening, "You're right, I'm not liking the direction this is going."

"I just don't want to be stepping into some place I shouldn't." Kelly shrugged.

His movements stilled and he tilted his head, "I thought you weren't throwing your hat in the ring."

"I'm not…" She looked down. When she looked back up there was no mistaking the intent in her gaze, "But maybe I am…curious."

Frank's chin raised and his shoulders pushed back even as he leaned in, "And what if I'm…curious…too?"

"We're both adults." Kelly's smile was slow to cross her face.

"We are." He nodded.

Kelly leaned back, "And as a responsible adult I would want to avoid…potential conflict."

He leaned in more, "Your resignation is official; I checked before I called you."

Kelly indulged him with a smile but rolled her eyes and leaned back, "That's not what I meant." She crossed her arms, "I still want an answer to my question; I don't believe you've been alone for nearly a decade."

He sat back in his chair, taking in a deep breath, head again turning away, "There've…been women. Nothing serious. Nothing long term."

"Past tense?" She tilted her head, waiting.

He looked down before sighing in defeat, "Mostly."

Disappointment flashed across Kelly's face and she blinked, looking away and fidgeting with her napkin, "I see."

"Hey…" Frank reached across the table and stilled her hand, "She lives a plane ride away. Married to her work. We see each other once, may be twice a year if her job brings her to the city. New York is just another port for her. It's…" He sighed, "Mutually beneficial."

Kelly looked back, eyes scanning his face. He released her hand and sat back, "But... she and I do email more regularly."

"I understand." Kelly nodded slowly, her expression still calculating.

He shifted in his seat, "What about you?"

"Me?" Her eyebrows rose, genuinely caught off guard.

He leaned forward, "You forget that I saw that file delivered to my office last fall?"

She rolled her eye, "Oh come on," She brandished away the memory, "That was from years ago."

"And more recently?" His thumbs tapped on the table.

She grinned, "More recently I've had an annoyingly time consuming job where this guy I was supposed to be overseeing kept on scheduling meetings in the evenings."

"A job you've just resigned." He leaned forward.

There was a long, quiet moment as they looked at one another.

Kelly broke the moment first, "I have a bottle of Finnerty's 18 at the house."

Frank's head tilted. "You don't drink scotch."

"I don't." She smiled, "I picked it up this afternoon. After you called."

"Ah."

A blush colored her cheeks even as her expression exuded confidence, "Just in case."

"Right." He was suddenly very still.

She sat back and mock frowned, "Does scotch go bad?"

He mirrored her position, "I've never had a bottle last long enough to find out."

"Well I'd really rather not risk it." She bit her lip and glanced at their mostly finished drinks on the table, "How about instead of getting another round here, you help me not waste some good scotch?"

There was a long moment when Frank didn't react, then he tossed back the balance of the drink in front of him with one hand as he pulled out his wallet with the other. He dropped a few bills on the table.

"Sure."

Kelly laughed, light and genuine before she finished the rest of her drink.

Knowing what was next, Abbey gave up and scrambled out of her seat, moving intently for the coverage of the restrooms before the PC stood to pull back Kelly's chair and inevitably would notice her.

Keeping her head down Abbey didn't even see her husband before she ran right into his chest.

"Oh, I'm sor…" She started before looking up and realizing who it was, "Bri?! Where have you been?"

He shrugged and gestured to the restroom, "I'd think that much would be obvious, _Detective_."

He smirked as his eyes scanned her, "Abs, babe, you're beat red. What happened?"

She took a deep breath and shook her head. She glanced over her shoulder in time to see the PC's hand linger on the small of Kelly's back as they left the restaurant.

Brian followed her gaze, "Huh. All that drama you put me through for nothing. They left quickly."

She looked up to him, eyes wide, "Yeah. They decided they were _in a rush_."

He blinked back at her, a slow grin crossing his face until he began to laugh.

"It's not funny." She slapped at his chest, "I'm never going to be able to look him in the face ever again."

"Oh Abs…" He kept laughing, "Only you…"

She frowned, biting her lip, refusing to let his laughter be contagious until she couldn't stand it anymore and she broke, laughing and leaning into her husband in the small hallway.

"C'mon babe." He wrapped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head, "The tab is all paid up, let's head out of here and see if I can help take your mind off what you just heard."

She groaned and let him lead her out of the restaurant, "If he comes in whistling on Monday I'm quitting, full stop."

Brian shook his head, "Just focus on how much amusement you can get out of knowing something that Garrett doesn't."

"Well...There _is_ that." She smiled.


	55. Perspective

_A/N - Season 5! This takes place in the final scenes of the Season 5 premier, "Partners"_

* * *

Garrett hustled up the steps, his pace stuttering as he passed Jim's empty desk.

He looked at his watch, "It's barely past 6."

"I know." Abbey didn't look up from her computer, finishing a memo with one hand and dropping the related folder in her outbox with the other.

Garrett rocked on his feet in front of her desk. She clenched her jaw and looked up, "What?"

Garrett tilted his head, "Where's he been going?"

"I don't know." She replied as neutrally as possible.

The DCPI narrowed his eyes, "Yes you do. You know everything."

"I don't." She insisted with a shake of her head.

"The Commissioner has been regularly leaving early for two months and you have _no_ idea why?" Garrett made a face, "I don't believe you."

She sighed and put down her pen. At first, Brian had been right, knowing something that Garrett didn't was immensely entertaining. As the summer wore on it just became a bother, especially as she didn't actually _know_ where the PC was going. She _suspected_ he was continuing to meet up with Kelly Peterson but she could be wrong, he could be going to baseball games with the boys, visiting colleges with Nicky and Erin or just squeezing in some fishing on the pier before continuing to work from home.

She made it a practice to not share what she knew of the PC's private business but the added uncertainty meant she was _definitely_ going to keep her mouth shut and Garrett's pestering served only to add to her growing list of annoyances.

She didn't bother to mask her exasperation as she looked him in the eye, "First of all, he's not leaving early; it _is_ after 6 and he has been here since 8. Second, I'm not his overseer. You're his pal; how come _you_ don't know?"

Garrett frowned and for a beat she felt bad for tossing that in his face but she resented the expectations he put on her.

He seemed to hear the message, "I'm sorry, Abbey."

"No…" She sighed, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be short tempered with you."

He shrugged it off with honest amnesty as his attention diverted to focus on her. "If the boss is gone what's all this?" He made a sweeping motion across the stacks of paper and still open folders occupying her typically tidy desk.

Her eyes followed the path of his hands and her shoulders stooped as she realized just how much work there still was.

She took a moment to reign in her frustration before looking back up, "Without a Chief of Department the work needs to end up somewhere." She grimaced, "It's like 2005 all over again."

Garrett shook his head, "I wasn't here for that."

She winced, "When Commissioner Connors was being investigated a lot of the stuff usually the purview of the PC ended up on the Chief's desk."

"And in 2005 that really meant ending up on _your_ desk." He finished the implication.

She shrugged, "It's my job."

"Not really." Garrett bounced back, "What about the Chief's staff?"

"They're doing their best." Abbey was quick to excuse the team of admins left hanging in the wake of Arbogast's departure, "But they're young and mostly civilians and need some guidance."

She shrugged, "The staff of the various Chiefs have taken most of the load but it's not always clear what should end up where; Chief of Patrol or Chief of Community Affairs or Transportation versus Transit etc etc."

"So it falls on you to be the decider?" Garrett's eyebrow rose.

She gave a wane grin, "It would be too easy for everything to fall cleanly into particular bureaus."

Garrett frowned, "And I'm sure you haven't complained."

She rolled her eyes, not dignifying that with a response.

"I wouldn't count on assuming Frank is aware of all the extra work you're doing." Garrett gestured, "Might be worth giving him a heads up."

"To what end?" She frowned.

"To get him to instate a new Chief sooner than later." He explained.

She sighed, "It's not on me to _get_ the PC to _do_ anything."

Garrett just stared back at her, unconvinced.

She resisted the sudden compulsion to rub at her temples, "Garrett, I've told you, that's not my role. I'm not a DC and not brass. My job is to just get things done."

He rolled his eyes, "Come on, Baker. You know he doesn't put much on rank with people he trusts and I have it on solid authority that he trusts you a whole heck of a lot more than the vast majority of brass in this building."

"You don't get it." She shook her head.

"Then explain it to me." Garrett leaned on her desk, "Because right now I see you drowning in work an hour after you're technically free to clock out. That's a problem with a clear solution but the excuse you're giving me for not bringing it up to the man you've worked with for 9 years is because you're not upper echelon brass?" He straightened, "You're right, I'm definitely _not_ understanding you."

" _For._ " She locked eyes with him, jaw tense. "I haven't worked _with_ the Commissioner, I've worked _for_ him."

"Oh come on." Garrett scoffed.

"I am 100% serious."

She took a breath and leaned back in her chair, "I understand what you're saying, I really do, and to a certain extent you're right; I can get away with saying a lot more to the PC than probably any detective not named Reagan but there's nuance to the what, when and where."

She bit her lip, thinking for a beat. "Maybe you don't understand because you were never a cop but the department has rank and protocol for a reason. The PC needs to know without a shadow of a doubt that when he orders something that I will carry it out regardless of any personal feelings." She pointed at him, "Someone in your position can afford to blur the line between boss and friend because if things get messy between you there isn't likely an order he needs to give the DCPI that has time sensitive life or death consequences."

She gestured to the stack of folders, "Most times it's routine here but sometimes those commands do come down through me and the fact that they are infrequent is all the more reason to adhere to the practices of rank to ensure things don't get too lax and there won't be a hesitation."

She looked up with earnestness, "We can be close but there are lines that aren't crossed; I'm not you - I don't call him Frank, I don't know where he's going when he leaves for the day and I _don't_ offer my opinion unless it's asked for…which includes the management of this department."

Garrett blinked and frowned. "I'd find that very difficult."

"Which is why you're you and I'm me." She sighed looking back to her computer, skimming the subject lines remaining in her inbox.

Garrett was quiet for a long moment until he nodded, "Alright, then, I'm on it."

She looked back up, eyebrows arched, "On what?"

"Operation New Chief." He explained, "Besides, you're not going to be the only one put in a bind by this; there's certain usefulness in being able to dispatch comments to the press from the Chief instead of the Commissioner and I'm certain I'll miss having access to that distinction."

She bit her lip, eyes scanning his face before she exhaled, releasing all of her earlier frustration and allowing a small smile to tip the corner of her lips. "Okay. That sounds like a plan."

He shrugged, "I've said it before, I don't know how you do what you do."

"It helps being reminded I don't have the toughest job in the building." She glanced with meaning to the closed doors of the PC's office.

"I guess he's shouldering some extra work because of this too?"

She nodded, pushing back from her desk and beginning to organize the paper into piles to be addressed tomorrow, "He is; but his workload never ends anyway, I doubt he even notices what extra reports he's going through that should be on the chief's desk." She frowned and glanced around the office space, ensuring no one else was near, "Honestly I think the hardest part for him is not having the right person to talk to."

"He can talk to me." Garrett defended, shoulders squaring.

Abbey tried to keep her smile from appearing too patronizing, "He can." She nodded, "But there's something to be said for having a cop to talk things out."

"You mean endorse his existing opinions." He grumbled.

"That's not fair." Abbey frowned, moving a stack of folders on top of another set of folders, "You know how he feels about keeping grounded with the rank and file."

"Sometimes to a detriment." Garrett pursed his lips, "He's got a lot more in common with a politician than he does a precinct boss."

Abbey couldn't contain a short guffaw, "Don't let him hear you say that."

"I've _tried_ telling him." He replied before relinquishing, "Not that he ever actually hears it."

She smirked, clicking closed a few windows on her computer.

Garrett shuffled, tilting his head at the real estate briefings she was sticking in to her bag. "Looking at houses?"

She smiled, "Yeah, we're hoping to buy sometime this fall."

"That's exciting." He reached for the one sheets, "Where you looking?"

She frowned, "All over right now. Brian wants to look in Jersey but I like the idea of staying in the city."

He glanced through the papers, "How about a little further North? Lots of great neighborhoods around White Plains. Decent schools too."

"No thank you." She shook her head and he looked back with an arched eyebrow.

"About White Plains, of _course_ we want good schools." She frowned, "I have gotten way too spoiled with my commute and have no desire to go much further out of the way."

"So Brooklyn it is?"

She shrugged, "We'll see."

* * *

"Lookin' at houses?" A few weeks later Abbey found herself reliving the conversation with Sergeant Gormley from the 5-4 squad.

He had readjusted his tie for the 4th time before he noticed the most recent leaflets she had stacked on the corner of her desk as he shifted from side to side.

She smiled at him, "Yes. It'll be our first house." She offered the extra information taking pity on him and the nerves on display across his face.

Abbey liked Sid ever since she had walked in on him going above and beyond trying to help when Danny had been framed. She knew that having Danny as a subordinate couldn't be easy but Gormley somehow navigated the challenge while making it clear that he was a dedicated boss and loyal cop behind his gruff Bronx exterior.

She knew he didn't know why the Commissioner had called him back after his visit the other day but it was evident that he assumed it couldn't be for any good reason. She suspected he had nothing to worry about but kept her assurances to herself, instead trying to offer warm conversation in place of the wary disinterest she usually regarded those forced to wait by her desk.

"It's a big step." He nodded. "Sheila and I are still in the first house we bought."

"Oh?" Abbey tilted her head with legitimate interest, "Anything you'd do differently?"

"Might 've been a little more aware of where it was, geographically speaking." He gestured. "We're a couple miles east of the Cross Island Parkway which was great when I was still at the 105 and really wasn't bad when I moved over to the 4-1. Now ain't that bad as long as I time it right but each time a transfer comes down the pipe, I worry."

"I can understand that." She frowned at the stack of properties.

"Not to mention that paying city tax is a little less painful when you know it's contributin' to yer own salary." He pointed out with a grin.

She gestured at him with her pen, " _That_ is a point that could come in useful."

" _Baker._ " The Commissioner's voice came through the buzzer and the grin slid off of Gormley's face. She tried to transmit some empathetic encouragement as she stepped around him but he maintained the expression of a condemned man. He readjusted his tie again and buttoned his jacket as she held open the door, gesturing for him to enter the office.

She just caught the Commissioner's deep voice instructing the Sergeant to sit down as she closed the door behind her.

Exhaling she grabbed her phone and the real estate listings off the desk and went to the rear stairwell, so she could pace as she talked.

" ' _Ello_ " Brian's voice came through on the 2nd ring.

"Hey Honey." She smiled at the clear sound of Michael's plastic piano in the background, "How's our Mozart?"

 _"_ _I'm sorry to tell you I don't think our son is a musical prodigy. He's flipped it upside down using it as some kind of battlefield between his elephant and giraffe."_

She chuckled as she paced down a flight, "Who knows, maybe it's a new kind of music."

 _"_ _Sure. One day we'll all be listening to the atonal Safari Symphony._ " The background noise dimmed, _"So what's up?"_

She balanced the phone between her chin and shoulder as she shuffled the papers she had brought with her, "I just wanted to touch base while I was thinking of it." She hustled down a couple more steps and turned so she could lay out the 5 sheets on an eye level stair. "This weekend maybe we can go the Cobble Hill place and Windsor Terrace?"

 _"_ _This mean you're over the Fort Lee house?"_

She frowned, "I do love the house itself and if it were in Brooklyn or Queens I'd say that's it but I just can't get over the NJ thing."

" _You're going to break my brother in law's heart if he hears you talking trash about his state."_

She rolled her eyes, Terrance had been pushing for them to move to Bergen County since the day they moved in together. "He can sleep easy, I don't have anything against the place, but even with reciprocity the taxes just don't make sense and you know I'm not keen on being stuck in the Jersey commute."

 _"_ _Someday you're going to have to tell me why you hate tunnels so much."_

Her shoulders tensed recalling the day in early 2009 when they had received a credible threat and the conference room had been taken over by engineers explaining how easily a terrorist could decimate a traffic tunnel.

"Best that you just let me be irrational on that one."

 _"_ _Okay, okay."_ He relented with a chuckle. _"I'll call the realtor once I hang up and see if there is anything like the Fort Lee house available in one of the boroughs."_

"Thanks Babe." She smiled for a beat before a breeze came through disturbing her papers and she had to hustle to gather them back together.

 _"_ _Everything okay over there?"_

"Yeah, yes…just making a mess." She readjusted the phone, "But I should probably get back. I just wanted to talk to you while it was on my mind."

 _"_ _I get it. Maybe Daniella will have more options for us when I call. We can talk about it when you get home."_

"Great. Love you."

 _"_ _Love you too."_

She smiled as she hung up the phone. She had anticipated some more resistance to her dismissal of the house they had looked at on Saturday but she was grateful that they seemed to be approaching a consensus of what they were looking for.

Another gust of wind came through as she climbed back up the steps prompting her to look up before she opened the door back to the 14th floor. The draft was coming from the open maintenance door to the roof.

Frowning she folded away the real estate papers and climbed the extra few stairs. A brick was purposefully wedged between the door and the frame. Someone from facilities would have a key so it had to be someone who shouldn't be out there. For a beat she considered removing the brick to teach the miscreant a lesson but the off chance that they wouldn't have a phone with them stilled her hand. Instead, she stepped out herself, looking for whomever needed to be reeled back in.

Turning the corner she immediately reevaluated her course of action.

The Commissioner's forearms were braced on the roof perimeter wall, a cigar balanced between his fingers as he looked in the direction of city hall.

She started to return to the stairwell but her stealth was undermined when she accidentally kicked an empty sealant can. The PC turned, eyebrow arching.

"Detective." He greeted.

She tried not to show the pain of her now throbbing toe as she gave a dim smile in return, "Sir."

He turned fully, "Were you looking for me?"

"No." She shook her head and gestured behind her, "I just saw the door was open…" She clenched her teeth as she tried to put her weight back on her foot.

He nodded then tilted his head, "Are you okay?"

She grimaced, "Just…stubbed my toe."

He looked down, "Those probably aren't the most protective shoes."

"They are not." She agreed.

He shook his head and gestured to the HVAC unit, "Take a seat for a minute. Can't have you falling down the stairs."

She grimaced but heeded his advice and limped to the metal ledge, giving it a quick wipe before leaning against it and toeing off her shoe.

The PC leaned back against the edge wall and took a long drag of his cigar.

She watched him, "What are you even doing up here, Sir?"

With a smirk he gestured to the cigar.

She rolled her eyes and he gave in with a drop of his shoulders and a glance back over the skyline, "Needed to clear my head." He looked back with a wry grin, " It's still too early for a drink and every time I try to smoke in a park someone calls me on it."

"It _is_ a city ordinance."

He shook his head, "One that smacks of mollycoddling."

"Broken windows Sir." She prodded with a straight face, "First it's cigars and next thing you know all kinds of degeneracy could break out."

He accepted the mocking with a short huff, "Funny Baker, very funny."

She smiled and rubbed her toe, squinting from the reflection of the setting sun in the windows of the surrounding buildings. The humor dropped from the Commissioner's face as he took a heavy breath, pursing his lips.

"What happened with Sgt Gormley?" She broke the silence.

He bounced his eyebrows, returning the cigar to his lips, "I think I gave him whiplash when I thanked him."

She tilted her head, "What?"

"Why does everyone think they are in trouble when they're called to the office?" He asked the question almost to himself as he flicked the embers into the wind.

She shrugged, "I don't think it's everyone, Sir. But Sergeant Gormley knew he crossed the line last week."

"He had good reason too."

He looked down, frowning and Abbey kept her mouth closed.

After a beat he looked back up, meeting her eyes, "Do you think I was wrong to not defend Lt McCarthy in the mayor's press conference?"

"Sir…" She shook her head in an attempt at dismissal but his steadfast gaze had her swallowing and she bit her lip, "I suspected you wanted to."

"I did." He agreed with a shallow nod, "But doesn't that just make it worse? Giving more consideration to the mayor's damn politics instead of backing my men..."

He looked away without waiting for a response. When he looked back, he was looking at her but she could tell his focus was still directed inward. "Detective, what do you want to do next?"

"What do you mean?" She frowned.

"Later. After this job." He gestured, "You had to have thought about it, there's little doubt that you'll still be working years after I'm off among the retirees on the pier." He shrugged, "What are you going to do next?"

"Sir…" Her mouth was dry and she found herself struggling to articulate the words.

He wasn't wrong, of course she knew she had a lot more time left than him and her professional future was part of the conversation she had with Brian before Michael was born. Despite that acceptance there was a part of her that had done the math; she was only 6 years away from 20 years on the force which meant a full pension and benefits upon retirement. It didn't seem a stretch to imagine the Commissioner hanging on to his post for those 6 years. Whatever she did after that was ancillary.

She exhaled, "I don't know, Sir. If I had my choice I'd stay doing what I'm doing but that really depends on who is in the office."

He gave a single stilted nod. "If you could do any job for the department, what would it be?"

"I'm doing it." She had no difficulty answering that one.

He stared back at her, his eyes scanning for any hint of sarcasm or pretense. Finding none he slouched against the wall. "Lucky you."

She frowned, "Sir?"

He forced a smile, "Don't worry about it Detective." He took a deep breath, "Despite my better judgment I'm not going anywhere...yet."

She nodded, but kept a wary eye on him. "You said you were clearing your head?"

"Trying to." His face contorted in frustration, "I told Garrett I'd do the press conference." He shook his head, "Trying to decide what I want to say versus what should be said."

Abbey eyes drifted across the cityscape, understanding. The press had been hard on McCarthy and the mayor had sidelined the Commissioner from coming to the Lieutenant's defense, something that she was certain was eating at him now that the Officer was in a potentially terminal coma.

She thought back to the previous week when a visibly agitated Sergeant Gormley had asked to speak to the Commissioner.

She looked up, "What _did S_ ergeant Gormley do that you wanted to thank him for?"

"He spoke up." He took a deep pull on his cigar, "He was pretty lit about the Mayor's press conference and didn't hold back."

"What would he have had you say?" She questioned.

His hand stilled and he looked her in the eye, lips tilting up slightly, "He wanted me to give the media some perspective."

Abbey shrugged, "Perspective is a good thing."

"It is." He agreed, grinding out his cigar on the brick and flicking the but into the corner before he straightened, "How's the toe, Detective?"

"I think I'll live, Sir." She grinned, managing not to wince as she settled her weight into her pumps.

"That's good to hear; we need to keep you around." He gave a short grin, gesturing for her to lead the way back to the stairwell.

"Still hunting?" He asked as she picked up the real estate papers she had left by the door.

"It's a process." She lamented.

"Not still considering Jersey, are you?" He tilted his head trying to catch the details on the top page.

"No, sir." She flipped it around, "There's a place in Windsor Terrace by the park I really like."

"Brooklyn?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Looks like it." She nodded, "Or Queens. But I'd rather be closer."

"Well I don't need to tell you which gets my vote." He smiled.

She shook her head, "No sir, the whole department is quite clear on your preferred borough."

He chuckled, reaching for the door back to the 14th floor.

He hesitated a beat, blocking her path and she stopped, waiting.

"Baker…" He trailed off.

She placated his unspoken thought, "You were just clearing your head, I get it."

"Thanks." He stepped back following her through the door, "Any word from narcotics on this afternoon's raid?"

She shook her head, "Nothing yet, I can look into it."

"Please." He nodded, "I'm going to work on this press conference statement but interrupt as soon as you hear anything.

"Yes sir." She stopped at her desk, watching as he continued through the doors to his office.

She sighed as she sat in her chair.

Perspective. Gormley had a point. As she had told Garrett a few weeks ago, despite all the work and frustration in her job, it helped knowing that the weight on her shoulders paled in comparison to that the Commissioner shouldered every moment of every day.

She frowned and pulled out the building directory; maybe she could get a key to the door to the roof for the PC...


	56. Approbation

_A/N - Takes place within the episode Excessive Force but there is also discussion of previous episodes, specifically Forgive & Forget. _

_As we get deeper into this story some references of previous events / observations are going to be mixed between the actual show cannon and things that are cannon only within this story - I won't highlight where each reference comes from as I have in some past chapters but will happily discuss it if someone has a question!_

 _Also - Poll - I often put two scenes in a chapter - sometimes it's because they take place in the same episode, other times it's because they are thematically linked. As a reader do you have opinion or preference: shorter chapters with single scenes (Like I was doing in the beginning of this story) or should I continue to pace it as it's been most recently...same amount of content; just more or less chapters. Thanks!_

* * *

"Damnit." Abbey cursed as she reeled in her target.

She pulled the paper off the hanger and glared at the offending hole to the right of the silhouette's ear.

"Not bad, Detective." Eddie's head poked around the divider, pulling her ear protection back. "Was that a full clip?"

"Clip minus one." She stuck her finger through the wayward shot with a grimace.

Eddie shrugged it off, "So, one out of 17." She indicated the tight cluster of holes in the target's abdomen and head. She held up her own target, all holes were within the silhouette but widely spread. "I would give up a stray if the rest of my shots looked like that!"

"Unless that stray hits a bystander." Abbey shook her head, as she stepped around the protective wall to the small room behind the shooting alley where their things were laid out on a table.

One of the perks of working in 1 PP was the use of the basement shooting range which, though smaller than other training facilities around the city, was usually empty on Saturday mornings. She crumpled the imperfect paper target and tossed it in the waste basket, "I have re-cert in 2 weeks and a target like that isn't going to make the cut."

"It doesn't matter." Eddie tried to comfort, "You don't need to be flawless; it's not like you're on the street."

Abbey forced herself to take a breath, "I'm still a cop. My gun is still a tool I need to be able to rely on."

Eddie nodded, letting the subject drop as she slid the clip out of her gun, running her fingers over it but not moving to refill it.

Abbey picked up a handful of bullets and efficiently began restacking her own magazine while maintaining a watchful eye over the young woman she had come to enjoy spending time with over the past year.

"You seem preoccupied." She finally voiced when Eddie still hadn't begun to reload.

"Maybe." Eddie shrugged a single shoulder.

Frowning, Abbey stopped what she was doing, "It's not exactly comforting to hear the person I'm shooting with is distracted."

Eddie winced and put down the clip in her hands.

"What's on your mind?" Abbey watched and waited.

Eddie shook her head, "Just stupid partner stuff."

"What did Jamie do?"

"Nothing, just…Nothing." She shifted and her eyes flicked to the side.

"Janko..." Abbey pressed, "You obviously have something on your mind."

Eddie winced and bit her bottom lip. She hesitated and then looked up, "You hear about the pharmacy shoot-out a couple weeks back?"

"Yeah." Abbey nodded.

Eddie looked at her, "Did the PC say anything about it?"

"No..." Abbey frowned, "Why?"

Eddie fiddled with a couple bullets on the table, "Jamie was riding with Kara Walsh that night and they were first on scene. They called in a 10-13; but my car was the only one to respond."

Abbey looked up sharply.

She remembered Walsh from the case involving Officer Cutter and she could imagine why members of the precinct would give her some friction, but the reality of cops not backing her and Jamie up when it mattered most sent a spark down Abbey's spine and she tensed.

"Where was everyone else?" She asked the question hoping the answer she assumed was wrong.

Eddie looked back meaningfully, "They got ' _tied up_ '."

"They _purposefully_ didn't respond to a 10-13?" Abbey ground her teeth. She knew Walsh had been wounded during the shoot out; she didn't want to think about how much worse it could have been.

"I know." Eddie nodded, "It was _bad_."

Abbey shook her head, "Well I can tell you that Jamie didn't say anything to his father; I _definitely_ would have heard about that." She bounced her eyebrows, "I'm pretty sure the whole _department_ would have heard about it."

"So that's the thing…" Eddie's eyes were wide, "Jamie actually threw his weight around."

Abbey put down the clip in her hand, "What do you mean?"

"Jamie never, and I mean _never_ , talks about his connection to 1PP. He gets uncomfortable if his family is brought up in any context related to the department." Her admiration in her partner's humility was evident even as she made an effort to keep her tone casual, "He's accepted around the house as just one of the guys and he works real hard to keep that level."

She took a breath and her lips tipped up, "But when we saw Reynolds back at the precinct not only did Jamie toss him into a wall; he actually threatened his job by insinuating how he could bring the whole thing up to 1PP." She shook her head, "In front of everyone."

Abbey blinked, more surprised at the image of Jamie tossing someone into a wall than she was by the idea of a Reagan pulling out all the stops to defend someone who they felt was being wronged.

"Sounds like this Reynolds character got off easy." She remarked, "There are a lot of guys who wouldn't have hesitated to use their hook to straighten someone out for being derelict in responding to an officer in need of assistance."

"Yeah." Eddie nodded, returning her focus to reloading her magazine, "It was just…intense. I've been riding with Jamie for over a year and the guy doesn't posture but he really put it all on the line; if they had a problem with Kara then they had a problem with him and all that goes with it."

Abbey smiled, "Good for Jamie."

"Yeah…" Eddie exhaled.

Abbey frowned; there was something else on the younger woman's mind but before she could pry the door opened.

"What do we have here?" Danny Reagan grinned, approaching the table, followed by Maria Baez and Jamie.

"Detectives, Officer." Abbey greeted the trio."I guess they let just about anyone in here now." She joked.

"Swiped the key from the Commish when no one was looking." Danny boasted, smirking at Maria.

His partner rolled her eyes before turning her attention to Abbey, "Hi Detective, don't listen to him, we have permission." She assured with a self-conscious smile as she put her gun case on the table.

Abbey grinned in return, "No worry, I stopped listening to him years ago; order of the PC."

"Hey..." Danny objected, but the rest of his defense halted as he turned for support from his brother and realized Jamie was no longer next to him. Instead, he remained by the door, sucking in his cheeks as he looked at his partner.

Danny glanced between the two of them and settled back on Jamie, "What's _with_ you, today?"

Jamie shook himself, "Nothing...sorry, I was just surprised." He stepped forward, wincing at Eddie, "I didn't expect you to be here. I didn't realize you two knew one another."

"Reagan, don't you _know_ that Baker here knows _everybody_?" The teasing words from Eddie came out with an unexpected edge.

"Uh, yeah, guess I should have expected that." Jamie flashed an awkward smile at Abbey. She returned the smile before glancing to Danny, grateful to see her confusion mirrored on his face.

Danny made eye contact with his partner who rolled her eyes. He cast his brother one last look before he shrugged and began unloading his gear.

"Glock 19?" Abbey commented as Danny put a piece on the table that she hadn't previously seen him with.

"It's my off duty." He explained.

She nodded, "I hear it's got less recoil than the Sig Sauer."

"Maybe." Danny shrugged, "Definitely less than my old Smith & Wesson." He gestured, "You want to give it a try?"

She blinked, surprised by the offer, "May I?"

"Sure." He held out a loaded magazine and the pistol.

She accepted both and he followed her back to the shooting lanes. The unfamiliar gun felt lighter and smaller in her hand and she found herself surprised that it was the choice of the rough and tumble detective.

She aimed and fired her first shot; the recoil _was_ less than she was used to and the shot went low. She adjusted accordingly and the next ones she fired landed true to aim and she smiled.

"You like it?" Danny smirked.

"I do." She nodded, "I like it a lot."

He took it back from her and squeezed off the remainder of the magazine in rapid fire. Clearing the chamber he held it in his palm, "It also fits real nice in an ankle holster."

"Good to know." She nodded, considering how the piece might fit in the secure carry compartment of her purse and what Brian's reaction might be if she put a handgun on her Christmas wish list.

"So…" Danny looked in the direction of the door to the cubicle before looking back at her, voice low, "What's going on between my brother and his partner?"

Abbey smirked at Danny's innate curiosity but had to sigh, "I really couldn't tell you." She shook her head, "Earlier she was talking all about something good he did. I never would have expected the icy welcome when you guys came in."

He frowned and glanced back to the doorway and Abbey could see the mental calculations he was giving to how much he wanted to bother with it.

She looked him over and changed the topic, "I hope you don't mind me asking, but since you're here; how are _you_ doing?"

"Me?" He shrugged "Fine."

"You do know who I work for, right?" She kept her eye on him until his bravado eeked away and he released a long breath.

"I guess I'm just counting myself lucky that I'm not modified."

She nodded, "I know the Commissioner caught some flak for not making a public comment but I also know that no one in 1PP ever even _suggested_ modified assignment."

"Yeah." Danny winced and looked down, "I know where I stand with my ol' Man." He tightened his jaw, "It's just this jackass, Potter."

Abbey chuckled as she walked back to the prep room, "That's being genial."

"Genial? Danny? I don't believe it." Maria looked up.

"Har, har." Danny glared at her. "We were talking about Potter."

"Then I _really_ don't believe you were being genial." She smiled sweetly.

"That whole thing is crazy." Janko interjected with a look at Danny.

"It's something." He agreed with a grimace as he searched through his bag for a box of bullets.

"No, but really." Eddie continued with a shake of her head, "Not only that the guy flung himself out the window but the fact that the people are so ready to believe that a cop would actually do that is just insane."

"It's not necessarily any harder to believe than someone willingly throwing himself out a third story window." Jamie shrugged, eyes focused on loading his own magazine.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Danny turned on his brother, "Do _you_ think I would do that?"

Jamie put down the clip and rolled his eyes, "C'mon Danny you know that's not what I meant." He shrugged, "It's just that for some populations in this city it's not exactly a stretch to believe that a cop would go over the line."

"That's not fair either." Eddie defended, "The only reason they think that is because people like Potter keep blowing things out of proportion. This isn't your grandfather's force anymore; cops don't do that."

"Ehh…." Maria winced and everyone looked at her.

"You disagree?" Danny prodded.

Maria sighed and looked around the group, "Look, I'm a cop just like you guys but I'm also the only one in the room without lily white skin and blue eyes."

"What? You saying you've been roughed up?" Danny put his hands on his hips.

"No." She shot back, "But people I grew up with have been."

She sighed, "I mean, _yeah_ , Janko is right that it's not exactly like that in most cases but what it is like is the security guard who follows me around when I go into any store on 5th Avenue. It's the cops pulling my sister over when she visits her college roommate in Westchester. And it's the guys from the 1-7 who locked up my neighbor's son overnight for trespassing based on someone reporting him in his girlfriend's building on the East Side."

She shrugged, "I get where the mistrust comes from."

Abbey bit her lip and looked down. She felt Eddie shuffle next to her and heard Danny grunt.

"So what do we do about that?" Jamie asked levelly.

Abbey looked up. Jamie was looking at Maria with an open expression displaying a sincere hope for an answer. Somewhere in the back of her mind she recalled the Commissioner referring to the focus and compassion in his youngest and she smiled.

"I wish I knew." Maria admitted sadly.

"Would be nice if we _started_ by figuring out how to stop Potter from feeding the fire." Danny muttered.

" _That_ we can all agree on." Maria nodded, slamming a magazine into her gun, "Now are we going to spend all morning chatting or are we going to shoot?"

Abbey chuckled, "You three have fun. I'm done for the day." She picked up her bag, and looked to Janko, "You staying or walking out with me?"

For a beat Eddie looked to Jamie. Abbey half expected her to stay but she shrugged and turned, "I'm leaving now." She looked over her shoulder, "See ya Monday, Reagan" and she breezed past Abbey and out the door.

"Yeah…see ya…" Jamie mumbled watching her go before putting on his ear protection and following Danny and Maria in to the shooting lanes.

Abbey hurried up the steps after Eddie, waiting until they made it to the street before elbowing her, "So you going to fill me in on what's going on between you and your partner?"

"Nothing." Eddie spit out.

"Nothing…" Abbey echoed with disbelief.

Eddie huffed, "It's complicated."

"Is it nothing or is it complicated?" Abbey pushed with a grin.

Eddie frowned, "Both." She came to a sudden stop and looked around the square, "We may have…" She bit her lip and kept her eyes downward, "Crossed a line."

Abbey's eyebrows arched.

She could read into what crossed a line meant but she hesitated to make the assumption. She knew Eddie had previously resented implications regarding her and Jamie and she also had assumed that Jamie was too by the book to be compromised by engaging in a relationship with his partner.

Eddie's eyes had stayed down so she didn't see the reaction flicking across Abbey's face. She shook her head, "Last winter, we were out with friends and he walked me home and we were drunk."

She looked up, guilt on her face, "It was all of two seconds and we both have basically pretended it never happened but sometimes…" She bit her lip, "He'll do or say something and I think maybe it wasn't so much nothing as he claimed it to be..." She locked eyes, "And sometimes I think maybe _I'm_ just reading into it because maybe I don't want there to be nothing."

Abbey released a slow exhale, buying herself time to think over Eddie's admission. She tilted her head, "One of these 'maybe nothing, maybe something' things has happened recently?"

"He's going out with a woman I encouraged him to ask out and now we're fighting over stupid other things that are probably a little more related than I'm comfortable admitting." Eddie winced.

"Ah." Abbey acknowledged.

"I know it's stupid."

"Yes. Very." Abbey didn't hold back the disapproval in her tone. "You need to figure this out fast because what you're doing now is just dangerous."

Eddie looked down. "I know, I know."

Abbey sighed and looked away. She didn't want to give any signals of encouragement but she also didn't want to freeze the younger officer out when she was struggling . She looked back to Eddie whose jaw was set in a tight frown.

"Have you tried talking _honestly_ with Jamie?"

"Talk? Yes." Eddie looked up, "Honestly? Maybe not so much…"

Abbey shook her head, "How about you try giving that a shot before you end up demoted back to high school?"

"Point taken." Eddie held up a hand. She sighed, "We've got a long tour in the car on Monday. I'll give it a shot then."

"Good." Abbey nodded with relief.

She genuinely like Eddie and she honestly wasn't surprised that she was smitten with Jamie but she knew enough to know the tension she saw today was only the beginning if the two of them didn't come to some understanding. Abbey wasn't sure what the results of their honest conversation might be but she breathed a little easier knowing she did what she could to avert potential disaster.

* * *

"You going to Crockett's retirement racket?"

Jim looked back at her with an arched eyebrow, "Maybe. Next Wednesday, right?"

"Yes. Starts at 1930." She shrugged, "I doubt it will go very long and I know that the PC's been staying out pretty late recently, maybe you can book yourself off that night?"

Jim shook his head, "We haven't been out late this past week, I'll try to make it."

She raised her eyebrows, the Commissioner hadn't been leaving early recently and if he wasn't staying out late then maybe what ever had been occupying him the last few months was no longer a factor.

She frowned but before she could think too much on it the intercom buzzed. "Baker." She reflexively grabbed her notepad and stepped into the office.

"Sir?"

"Take a seat." The Commissioner gestured to the visitor chairs.

She acquiesced, sitting straight, waiting and trying to force her mind from continuing to wonder.

Unaware of the thoughts running through her head the Commissioner tapped the personnel file he had on the desk, "Thank you for getting this."

"Of course." She nodded.

"And I should add," He continued, "Thank you for all the extra work you've been putting in these last few months, helping to pick up the slack from the chief's office."

She swallowed and shifted.

"Yes, I noticed. Even _without_ Garrett dropping his 'subtle' hints." He smirked, "Once we fix this you make sure to take some of that comp time you have banked away."

"Fix it, sir?" She tilted her head.

"I'm here." Garrett interrupted, coming through the door without a knock before the PC had a chance to explain his comment.

"Good." He gestured at the seat next to Abbey.

He clasped his hands on top of the desk and waited for Garrett to sit before he leaned forward. "I'd like to make an unusual proposal, but I want to hear your thoughts on it first."

Abbey blinked to Garrett who shuffled to the edge of his seat, "Sure thing Frank, what's this about?"

The Commissioner rolled his lips, "The other day you said that I need a Chief of Department so there is someone besides myself who can speak with authority on behalf of the department."

"Paraphrasing…" Garrett frowned, shifting at Frank's glare, "But yeah, that's about right."

The PC nodded, "And from the logistical side of things, Baker, what do you see this department needing in that office?"

She blinked, "Sir?"

"The question is what it is, Baker." He shrugged, "This is as good as a time as any to evaluate what this department really needs from its senior uniformed officer. Doing things the same way as they've always been done for no other reason than that's how it's always been done is inane."

Next to her Garrett smothered a strained cough and she frowned, "Sir, you know as well as anyone; you had the job."

"And I have my thoughts." He agreed, "But I want to hear yours."

She swallowed and gave a short nod, "Then, I guess I'd say the office needs someone who is familiar enough across the department to be able to evaluate what needs to be done by whom and delegate accordingly based on, sometimes, very little information. They need to have enough prospective to know what should be bounced up to this office and flexible and dedicated enough to take on everything that falls in between the cracks."

The PC nodded, "Sounds about right to me." He leaned back, "I'd say we also need someone who isn't _intimidated_ by this office but equally respects the dignity of his position."

Abbey bit her lip, hearing the not so thinly veiled allusion to Chief Arbogast.

The Commissioner wasn't done; "I also don't want someone who has been in the building; I think a fresh voice could be an asset." He frowned, "One that has a close ear to the boots on the street."

Garrett glanced to Abbey then back to Frank, "So _not_ someone like Trumbull."

"No." Frank responded with a single, definitive shake of his head.

"You already have someone in mind." Garrett tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

Frank shifted and rubbed his fingers across his palm, "I do."

He took a deep breath, "It may come across as unorthodox but I'm going for pragmatism over tradition." He looked up, "But I still need you two to tell me if I'm too far off the range."

Abbey swallowed, her curiosity ramping into overdrive.

"Of course." Garrett promised aloud.

Frank nodded and leaned back, "I was thinking Sid Gormley."

Abbey's jaw opened before her brain rebooted and she snapped it shut. She looked down to the personnel file she had personally pulled for the Commissioner earlier that day. She liked the sergeant but the reality that he could be who the PC was considering was so far out of the realm of possibility that she didn't even _think_ of connecting the file with the description of who the Commissioner wanted in that post.

"Uhh. Frank…" Garrett leaned in, "Gormley seems like a well-intentioned guy and I can understand why'd you'd like him but aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?" Frank tilted his head.

"Civil Service Law." Garrett gestured, "Even the Commissioner can't just at will promote a guy from Sergeant to Department Chief."

"I thought of that." Frank nodded.

"And?" Garrett tilted his head.

"And, so we change the title." Frank shrugged, "Who the hell cares what the title is as long as the jobs get done and the press and the ranks know that when he speaks it's with the full faith and support of this office."

"And you want to put that faith behind Sergeant Gormley…." Garrett clarified slowly, reluctance coloring his tone.

Frank grimaced, "Hey I know the guy isn't the most articulate in the room." He tapped on the desk, "Neither am I. That's why you're here."

Garrett rolled his eyes. "You know, it could get around that you're hiring him just because of the way he defended Danny in Compstat."

Frank grimaced, "Either I'm not supportive enough or I care too much; there's no winning with that game" He sighed, "But you know, that is when I started thinking about him; I got the sense he wasn't playing some showmanship game. He would have said the same thing regardless of which of his detectives he was talking about, don't you think?"

"Yeah…" Garrett agreed slowly.

"And despite the bemoaning he did, he has a bachelor's in criminal justice and has taken every optional management training made available since he earned his command." He gestured to the folder, "He's bounced around with each promotion but no boss ever had anything bad to say about him and I personally know that his men respect him. Even the guys he's had to come down on."

He rubbed his mustache and dropped his hand to the desk, tapping before he turned his attention to Abbey, "What about you? You haven't said anything."

"I think you're right." She nodded.

Garrett shot her a look, "You weren't even at Compstat."

"I wasn't." She conceded, facing him, "But I have had other interactions with the Sergeant and I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that he is loyal to his detectives and he's willing to go above and beyond, including putting himself on the line if it means taking care of them."

Frank raised his eyebrows, "You seem pretty sure of this."

She turned back to the PC, "I am…Sir." She squared her shoulders. "I agree with Garrett, there is going to be some talk as to why he gets the nod over guys with more polished resumes; but if you're looking for someone to fulfill the job the way you want it done?" She shrugged, "He's worked all over the department, gets great productivity from his squad, and has proven he can operate with discretion. He's also already shown, on numerous occasions that intimidation isn't a problem when he feels he needs to speak up either to back someone up or pass something on."

She paused, struggling for the right words to explain why she had such an instinctive liking of the Sergeant. "He's one of those guys Chief Hines would refer to as a 'Cop's Cop.' "

Frank's lips turned up into a small smile and he nodded, keeping his eyes focused on her as he thought through her words.

"Okay." He nodded slowly. He looked to Garrett, "I know you have reservations but you've also been the one pushing for me to fill the job and I want to give this a shot."

Garrett's lips tightened, "Give it a shot, Frank?" He shook his head, "This isn't like taking a new car for a spin, if it goes bad it could go monumentally bad and it won't be easy to walk back."

"Last time I hired a Chief of Department he checked all the right boxes and it _did_ go monumentally bad; that's how we ended up here." Frank reminded.

Garrett cringed and sat back in his seat.

Frank waited for a moment in the silence, giving Garrett the space to voice another objection. When the DCPI remained silent, he firmed his lips and nodded, "Okay, so unless there are any other legitimate concerns…" He waited a beat, eyes on Garrett who gave a shrug and a shake of his head, "Baker, can you ask the Sergeant to come to the office with his things by the end of the day?"

"Yes, sir." She resisted the instinct to smile at the reaction the request would get from the unsuspecting sergeant.


	57. Aberration

_A/N - All within Episode 5.5 - Loose Lips_

* * *

The raucous sounds of good company lubricated by alcohol spilled into the otherwise quiet street as Abbey opened the door to Noonan's. She checked her watch as she entered the bar; Inspector Crockett's retirement racket had been going on for less than an hour and the place was packed. The solid mix of precinct level officers and headquarters brass spoke to the broad appeal and varied work history of Crockett.

She noted some familiar faces from 1PP were keeping to themselves around a high top table to the right of the door and mentally planned to join them, but first she needed a drink to soothe the tension of the day. Apparently, someone had threatened Jamie for intervening in a domestic dispute and although he adamantly refused to intervene professionally, the Commissioner had spent the afternoon restless and irritable which, in turn, meant that Abbey spent the afternoon on edge.

Her eyes drifted around the room as she waited for the bartender to return with her pint. She almost missed Sergeant Gormley by himself, partially obscured by the shadow at the far corner where the bartop met the wall.

She frowned at the disconnect of the lonely figure on the edge of the lively gathering. She knew he too had a less than pleasant afternoon, becoming a target of the Commissioner's frustration regarding Jamie's situation. Sorting out how to handle the Commissioner in regards to his children was not something the new member of the 1PP staff was yet prepared for. She suspected the incident flamed the self-doubt that he had been cultivating over the course of his first week as some of the higher brass had not hidden their umbrage at being passed over.

She saw the discomfort on his face now as he scanned the crowd, bouncing between the street level guys and the 1PP staff; unsure of where he belonged.

Abbey looked over her shoulder and inventoried the characters at the table she had initially intended on joining. Noting that Chief Daniels had ordered a new beer she was confident the group wasn't leaving anytime soon and she turned to approach the Sergeant.

"May I join you?" She asked, not waiting before settling her beer on the coaster next to his glass.

He blinked, "Um, yeah? I mean, of course, please."

She smiled and pushed aside the stool in favor of leaning on the bar. "You worked with Crockett?"

"Yeah." He nodded, raising his voice to be heard, "Years ago. We were both at the 5-2 when he got his gold shield."

She smiled, "I have a hard time picturing him as a detective."

Sid looked around and leaned in close, "Honestly? He wasn't very good."

Abbey's eyes flew wide and she covered her mouth to smother her chuckle. "That's difficult to believe."

The Inspector was known for being painstakingly methodical with a punctilious reverence for doing things by the book.

"Believe it." Sid shrugged, "That's how it is with some of these guys; they see the writing on the wall and take the sergeant's exam to get promoted out before they can be exiled to some dead end assignment." He took a drink, "Harrison is smart but he never had the creativity for detective work."

Abbey nodded. It wasn't uncommon for the rat maze of promotions to end up leaving a complacent officer in an assignment that mismatched their talents. She looked at the man next to her.

"What about you?" She smirked, "You take the Sergeant exam for the same reason?"

"Nah." Sid shook his head. He looked to Abbey when she remained quiet and he sighed before elaborating, "Chief Brissett was my Sarge for a long time but after he moved up I couldn't stand the next couple of guys who came through and I figured I certainly couldn't do worse than the guy we had at the time. I think the Sergeant's exam was the first test I ever studied for."

Abbey grinned, "Must have paid off; I saw your file - they moved you over to running the major case squad pretty fast."

"If I was going to be stuck supervising instead of working cases it certainly wasn't going to be some crew who didn't have their acts together." He emphasized his point with a sideways glare at some boisterous young men on the other side of the bar.

Abbey tilted her head, "You're one of those who wish you could have retired a detective?"

"Aw, I don't spend time wishin' on things like that." He shrugged, "Being a detective was what I wanted to be since I was a kid but I never even considered HQ as a possibility."

"So you're happy with your transfer?" Abbey pried.

"Shouldn't I be?" He replied automatically. He looked back at her, "I mean, I still don't really understand it...and there is a literal pile of back dated work on my desk which I'm not exactly sure what to do with...and I'm supposed to delegate and help supervise guys who outrank me by a ladder's worth of rungs and they don't know me from nobody…" He stopped, tightening his lips and looking abashedly at Abbey, "But I don't think my old man's ever been prouder…and Sheila's about as happy as she's ever been; of course that was only after I convinced her I wasn't making it up."

"I bet." Abbey grinned, "Don't worry about the other stuff, the work will never really slow down but it will get easier, or at least more familiar. And there may be a few old hold outs but most of the guys who have come in since the Commissioner's had a say respect the work folks do over rank. If the PC says you're the man for the job most of the brass will fall in line."

"If you say so." Sid exhaled, taking a long drink.

Abbey glanced back to the table by the door, pleased to see the same people were still there.

"I do say so." She nodded. "Come on, I'll show you."

Without waiting for his reply she picked up both of their glasses and lead the way to the table of chiefs, not checking to see if he was following her.

"Baker!" Bureau Chief Fonteno was the first to greet her, "And Sergeant." He nodded as Sid came up behind her and awkwardly reclaimed his glass.

Assistant Chief Elijah Daniels smirked, "Was wondering when you two were going to join us."

"Perhaps we were wondering when _you_ would join _us._ " Abbey sassed taking a sip.

"That's right!" Fonteno grinned, "Sarge is boss now, all deference goes to you, _right?_ "

Sid shifted and his eyes darted between the three men at the table, "Oh, no…that's not…you know I don't…It ain't like…"

The grin on Fonteno's face softened, "Hey, Sid, I was just joking."

"Oh, yeah, I mean, I know…" Sid stammered, a strained smile on his face.

Deputy Chief Kent's eyes met Abbey's for a second before he turned his attention to Sid, "A little first week whiplash?" He asked with a gentle smile.

Sid looked up before relaxing into a self-effacing nod, "You could say that. For sure."

"I remember how it is." Kent nodded, "Took me the better part of a year to feel settled in. I suppose if I think about it too much I still feel like I'm a PO playing dress up."

"Really?" The sergeant's eyes grew wide.

"Hey, Don, at least you had the benefit of an existing friendship with the PC." Daniels gestured, "I didn't think the guy knew my name before he pulled me into his office and asked me if I'd take over the bomb squad." He shook his head, "Can you imagine that? He _asked_ me. As if I'd actually have said no."

"But Chief, you were obviously groomed for it; now you head ESU." Sid gestured.

"First of all, call me Eli." The Chief corrected, "Second of all, I didn't feel prepared for that either. That whiplash Don mentioned hit me pretty hard with that promotion too."

"I don't think it changes, regardless of the position." Fonteno nodded, "I'd already had two stars when Reagan asked me to take over the Bureau but my head still spun the first few weeks."

Sid glanced around the table and the tightness in his shoulders slowly seeped away and he took a breath, "I swear I had ringing in my ears when the Commissioner asked me. To be honest I'm still not sure why me out of everyone he could have picked in that building."

"Everyone in the building is where they are doing the most good at the moment." Kent intoned.

"Exactly." Fonteno nodded, "Don't disrupt the apple cart when things are working right and there is an opportunity to pull in fresh perspective. 1PP can sometimes be too insulated."

"I'll second that." Daniels nodded, "Besides, there's enough movement happening though retirements." He shook his head, "It feels like half the brass have turned over in the past 2 years."

"That's how it always is." Fonteno shrugged, "Stars go to us old farts; no one is destined to be chief for a long tenure, especially since mandatory retirement was enacted."

Kent frowned and fiddled with his pint glass. Daniels' eyes tracked the nervous tick and he shoulders fell, "Oh no, don't tell me you're next."

Everyone else at the table fell quiet and looked in surprise at the discomfort on the Chief's face. Abbey could feel her eyes grow wide. Don Kent's steady presence was one of the most reliable constants in the building.

The chief's chest rose with a deep sigh, "Well, I went to put in my papers last week."

"No way." Sid's disbelief tripped from his lips.

Daniels remained dumbstruck silent but Fonteno slapped Kent's back, "Congrats, Don."

"I only said I went to turn them in; I didn't say I _did_." The taller man tilted his head, an enigmatic grin shading his typically stoic features.

Everyone looked around the table at one another until Abbey couldn't stand it any longer, "Why? What happened?"

"Frank Reagan happened." He replied, straight-faced.

Fonteno's brow puckered, "What are you talking about?"

"He asked me to stay on." Don answered with a frown, "Said that he doesn't want to interrupt the progress the gang unit has been making since Bitterman."

Daniels blew out a long, low breath. "So…what'd you say?"

Don gave a single, slow shake of his head, "Nothing yet. He made me promise to think about it and get back to him Friday."

"As in tomorrow?" Sid clarified.

"Yeah." Don took in a deep breath and looked around the table, "What would you do in my shoes?"

"If Frank Reagan told _me_ I was doing too good of a job to retire? Hell…" Eli shook his head, "I don't think I'd be able to say no."

Fonteno nodded, "Frank and I have had our differences, but yeah, when it comes down to it there isn't much I wouldn't do if he asked me."

Don nodded and turned his attention to Sid.

It took a moment for the sergeant to realize he was expected to provide a response as well, "Me? What would I do?" He stammered, "I mean, yeah, I'd stay. I'd take it as an honor to be asked but I'm still new."

Don looked pensively at him, the corners of his lips turning back up, "The feeling doesn't change."

"So, you're staying?" Fonteno leaned in.

Don inclined his head, "It's not like there was ever much of a choice." He winked in Abbey's direction.

Eli grinned and raised his glass in toast, "To Chief Don Kent."

"To Chief Kent." The rest of the table echoed.

The beer in Sid's raised glass sloshed as he frowned, reaching into his jacket to pull out his phone and squint at the lit screen. His eyes widened and his pint return to the table, missing the coaster.

"What is it?" Don asked as the table collectively recognized the indications of an unfolding situation.

"I uh…I gotta go." Sid patted his pockets, pulling out a credit card, "Someone just blew up an rmp with a Molotov cocktail."

Eyes went wide around the table. Kent picked up the credit card and handed to Sid, "Go. I'll cover yours; get out of here."

Sid hesitated for a minute then nodded, "Thanks Chief." He accepted his card back and moved with purpose, putting his phone to his ear as he grabbed his jacket off the rack and disappeared out the door.

The brass at the table watched him go. "I'm not envious of him." Fonteno commented.

"Not in the least." Daniels agreed.

"It's not an easy job." Don eyes focused in the direction Sid had disappeared into, "Wise men don't want positions of power." He smirked around the table, "I guess that makes us a table of fools."

"I'll drink to that." Fonteno breathed.

* * *

Abbey glanced up from her typing as Garrett stalked out of the office, his discontent a visible cloud over his head.

The DCPI leaving the office in a huff wasn't an uncommon occurrence and Abbey was set to ignore him but mental alarm bells began to ring when he hesitated and doubled back to stand at her desk.

She pulled her eyes up from the report she was working on, "What?"

"I need you to place a call." He stared at her, chin firm.

She sighed but picked up the phone, her fingers hesitating over the numbers. "To whom?"

"Henry Reagan."

She put the phone back down and glared at him, silently daring an elaboration.

"I need you to tell him the PC wants to meet for lunch." Garrett seemed oblivious to her icy reaction and he checked his watch, "Have him be at the colonnade at 12:30."

She took a deep breath, eyes flicking to the closed office door, "And _does_ the Commissioner want to meet his father for lunch?"

The Deputy Commissioner winced, "You don't need to know."

"Garrett!" She admonished.

He looked back to the closed office door and leaned forward over the desk, talking in an urgent hush, "I need to talk to him face to face and you _know_ he won't agree to meet with me."

"So your solution is to throw _me_ under the bus?" She shook her head, "You're asking me to misrepresent the PC and lie to a former PC…"

"It needs to happen…" He bit his lip and stared at her and she stared back, nonplussed.

He sighed and stood back, "You know you still owe me…"

She knit her brow and frowned, "For what?"

He raised an eyebrow, "I distinctly remember cleaning baby vomit out of my trash can."

"I made up for that!" She gestured and pointed at him, "I bought your drinks for like two weeks!"

"That was for the babysitting; this is for the vomit." He shrugged.

She shook her head, "Garrett…"

"Come on Abbey; you _know_ someone needs to talk to Henry." He locked eyes with her, "And you also know Frank can't do it himself; it's his father for crying out loud. Sid is still figuring out which direction is up so it's on me to deal with it." He tilted his head pleadingly, "Come on, I never ask you for favors, please just back me up on this? For the sake of the department?"

She sighed, "Don't think you're playing me that easily…"

He looked back at her, earnest and unrelenting.

She took a deep breath and glanced to the closed door. She looked back to Garrett and picked the phone back up, "Just this _once._ "

He held up a hand in solemn promise.

She grimaced and shook her head, "Okay…stand guard."

* * *

By the time Monday morning rolled around she still had not heard anything regarding Garrett's clandestine meeting with the former commissioner. She allowed herself the hope that perhaps Henry felt sufficiently rebuked and didn't fill his son in on her and Garrett's misdirection.

Still, her stomach clenched when the elevator arrived.

"Good morning, sir." She greeted, not allowing him space to reply, she handed over the top sheet she had compiled and followed him into his office, "You have a call with Geraldine Fields from the PBA at 10 and Compstat at 11. You asked me to put Sergeant Gormley on your schedule and that is at 1330, at 1400 Deputy Chief Millett from Transportation will be by to discuss the diplomat ticketing and at some point DCPI Moore would like a minute to discuss a televised sit down with the acting Manhattan DA."

"He does, does he?" The Commissioner grunted, dropping his jacket on to the chair and glancing at the other folders she placed on the desk.

"He does." She confirmed, picking up the jacket.

He looked at her, "And does DCPI Moore have anything _else_ he'd like to discuss?"

This was it. Her stomach clenched even as she maintained a blank face, returning to the front of the desk, "Not that I'm aware of, Sir."

He looked back at her, lips rolled tight and flat. The silence was heavy and she scanned her mind for anything that would be appropriate to mention but her endless list of goings-on failed her and she was forced to endure the discomfort until the Commissioner finally spoke.

"I need to ask you a question and I need you to answer me honestly." He intoned, his eyes dark.

She resisted the urge to swallow and nodded emphatically, "Of course."

His jaw was tense and he paused before leveling, "You called my father last week. Set him up for Garrett."

She did swallow at that point. Even before she placed the call she knew it would get back to her, that this conversation was inevitable but she waited for the question, uncertain what the Commissioner's reaction would be.

"When Garrett asked you to make the call did you know you were being asked to lie?" He looked at her, steadfast.

She knew that he was providing her an out and that he'd accept whatever she said. Garrett was already in trouble, there was nothing he could do to hide his interference and it wouldn't make much difference if she said he had mislead her as well. He had been prepared to throw her under the bus by using her in his plot, she could simply say she hadn't known it was a lie and be spared judgement from the man in front of her.

She looked down "I did know." She admitted meekly, looking back up. "And I'm sorry."

He didn't react for a long moment. "I don't know what to think right now." He frowned, "I've never been confronted with you being anything less than trustworthy."

She flinched. The quiet words more difficult to hear than anything he could have shouted. She struggled to find her practiced response. "I'm sorry Sir. I really am." She cast about for an explanation, "I just…was compelled by the DCPI's reasoning."

The Commissioner tilted his head, "Which was?"

Her shoulders reflexively straightened like a cadet being called upon to report. She forced herself to meet his eyes, "That it was an issue that needed to be addressed but was unreasonable to expect you to handle it considering your relationship to the former commissioner."

"Meaning that I wouldn't be able to lecture my own father." He chidingly paraphrased.

"Not that you _couldn't_." She was quick to clarify, "But that you shouldn't have to."

She sighed, "Sir, I knew it was wrong but it felt right to leave it to Garrett to try and deal with it and given his history with your father there didn't seem too many options to get the former Commissioner to agree to meet."

"So you knowingly misrepresented my wishes."

He didn't look away and she hung her head, "Yes, Sir."

He relaxed into his chair with a long exhale, "It was wrong of you to lie, Detective." He admonished, "But I can't say your intention was misplaced."

She looked up, eyes wide.

"Might have even been a good idea if it didn't backfire royally." He finished with a grimace.

She winced, "Was he angry?"

"He denied me soup for the first time since I was 12." The PC raised his eyebrows meaningfully. He shook his head, "Besides continuing to assert he did nothing wrong, he thought that I was behind setting him up; that I couldn't be bothered with talking to him myself."

She bit her lip, "I'm really sorry, Sir."

He shrugged and looked at the desk, "Family businesses are bound to get messy." He looked back to her, "Not sure what it says about how he sees you and I that he was more willing to believe that I ordered you to make the call than to believe that you were lying."

She winced again at the reminder that she had lied. "If it helps, I could call him and tell him myself." She offered.

"That's not necessary." The Commissioner waived off her offer, "I think we've achieved an armistice."

"You _think_?" She couldn't help but comment on the ambiguity.

He shrugged, "Pop isn't the easiest man in the world to read on a good day."

"So he's not going to apologize?" She chewed the inside of her cheek.

The PC snorted, "You wouldn't be asking that if you were at Sunday dinner." He looked back to her, "I tried telling Garrett that expecting Pop to take some kind of public accountability was always a pipe dream. He still doesn't think he said or even did anything wrong."

Her shoulders minutely relaxed and she took a step closer, "Even the bit about ordering the department to rustle up innocent people?"

The Commissioner shifted in his seat and for a beat she would have sworn he looked uncomfortable before looking up at her, "The officer he talked about in the video? The one who was threatened?"

She nodded.

He frowned, "Turns out, it was me."

The Commissioner looked down and she blinked. A shadow of understanding crossed her mind and the rest of the tension drained from her shoulders. She took in the PC's clenching jaw and she hazarded a guess about what was on his mind and the frustration of impotency as he perhaps envied the actions his father had been free to take.

She took another step forward so she was touching the back of the visitor chair, "How's Jamie?"

He looked up sharply and then sighed, knowing she could see through him. "Back at work today." He shrugged, "We were lucky he took any time off at all."

She frowned. She knew it was impractical to keep an officer on stand down indefinitely but there was still a viable threat and it had only been a few days. "What's being done?"

"Danny's on it." He answered firmly without elaboration.

She raised her eyebrows and he shrugged, "This is one of those scenarios where it's best to trust Danny to do his job as a big brother and the PC is better off not knowing too many details."

"Yes Sir." She smirked.

He sighed and leaned back, tapping on the desk, "So back to our little situation here…"

She straightened, "Sir, I really am sorry. I promise it won't happen again."

He tilted his head, "You can't promise that." He said it quietly, more of a statement of fact than a condemnation.

She frowned.

"Look," He sat forward, leaning his elbows on the desk, "Your relationships with other members of this command are a good thing. It's an asset that other people trust you and feel they can rely on you." He waived a hand, "There is value in that it keeps you connected to the internal drama of this building in a way that I can't be."

She gave a stiff nod and clenched her teeth, sensing there was more to come.

He locked eyes with her, "But at the end of the day, you work for me. Not for Garrett or Gormley or anyone else with a fancy title in front of their name."

He grimaced, "I know you know this, but as time goes by you've become more respected on your own merits which means more folks come to you for assistance. Which is fine if you can manage the time but I need to be sure you know that you can say no; rank doesn't matter if their request in anyway undermines this office. Is that understood?"

"Of course." Abbey replied automatically, blinking at the strange sense of being complimented within a reprimand. "I really do prioritize this office first."

"I know you do." He nodded, "But I also know it's hard for a Detective to say no to a Chief or a Deputy Commissioner and I know this building has its own blue line where folks cover for one another and it's not always easy to discern the right thing to do." He shrugged, "Just don't forget that as long as you and I are on the same side everything will be okay."

"Yes, Sir." She nodded.

"And just…" He winced, "Let's just make it a rule to tread lightly where Pops is concerned."

Abbey smiled, "Of course; I don't want to cause any issues between the two of you."

He waived a hand, "It's nothing new and nothing for you to worry about."

"Well, please let me know if there is anything I can do to help smooth over anything." She offered.

The Commissioner shook his head as he picked up one of the folders on the desk "Unless you know how to make a man in his 80s stop being cantankerous and obstinate then it's best to let it go and move on."

There was a wistful undercurrent to his words that Abbey couldn't source but she tucked the thought away, nodding mutely.

"The call with Fields isn't until 10?" He questioned.

Abbey blinked, dragging herself back to the day's business, "Uh, correct. She said she'll call in shortly after 10."

He glanced at his watch, "Good. How about you send the DCPI up; I think it's his turn to explain himself." He perused the file in front of him, grumbling to himself, "Not that I'm likely to get an apology from _him_."

She swallowed, "Yes, Sir. I'll send him right in."

Leaving the office she exhaled. She knew it could have been a lot worse; there were some bosses who would have considered her actions a fireable offense. She was lucky and even if he may end up on the wrong end of a rougher conversation she knew that Garrett would also come out just fine.

Now, the only question was what tone she should use when she called him up to the office; this was a rare opportunity to have a little fun and either make Garrett sweat or set him up to be caught off guard.

She grinned to herself and dialed the familiar extension.


	58. Legacy

_A/N - Season 5 Episodes 'Sins of the Father' - 'Home Sweet Home' - 'Love Stories'_  
 _I LOVE the Frank / Henry complicated, close & supportive yet non-demonstrative relationship. It's so subtle and laid out carefully over the whole show and can't possibly be done justice in one chapter of one story but these three episodes provide such a nice opportunity to check into that window that I had to give it a shot. Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

"Donald DiCarlo is currently being transferred to Central Booking and will have an arraignment hearing tomorrow morning."

Henry shifted next to Abbey as they stood at the back of the room, watching the Commissioner's press conference regarding the DiCarlo arrest.

Out of the corner of her eye she watched the old man's chest puff, a satisfied grin turning up the corners of his lips.

"Commissioner!" "Commissioner!" "Commissioner Reagan…"

"That's all for now." The Commissioner held back the clamor of the reporters with a dismissive hand before he ducked out the rear door.

Abbey followed Henry out the side exit before the reporters had the chance to gather themselves.

"Must be a pretty good feeling." Abbey prompted as they climbed the short staircase.

Henry nodded, "It's been a long time coming." He shook his head, "Still can't believe he was so brazen as to walk in to this building last week."

Abbey shrugged, "It's been 3 decades. He doesn't look anything like his mug shot; he must have thought he could get away with it."

"He underestimated Francis is what he did." Henry smirked as they turned the corner.

The Commissioner was waiting by Abbey's desk, hands in his pockets. A smile lifted his mustache when he saw them.

"That's that Pop." He announced, rocking on his feet, "Case closed as far as the NYPD is concerned. Don DiCarlo is now the business of the Manhattan District Attorney."

"They better not screw it up." Henry muttered.

Frank puckered his lips, "It's _Erin_."

"It's not _her_ I'm worried about." Henry shook his finger, "It's that boss of hers."

Frank bounced his eyebrows in an acknowledgement, "We wrapped it up pretty neatly for them. He'd be hard pressed to justify pleaing it down."

"Still." Henry shook his head, "I'll be in the gallery every day; just to make sure."

"Wouldn't expect anything else, Pop." Frank spared a final moment to grin at his father before he glanced at his watch, "I have a couple of things to wrap up but if you're willing to wait we could go get dinner? Steak at Dominicos?"

"Not tonight." Henry picked up his jacket without elaboration. "I'm going to head home. We can have a scotch when you get in."

Frank's grin faded. "Okay. I won't be long."

Henry nodded and tossed a wave over his shoulder as he disappeared into the elevator.

Frank hesitated at Abbey's desk for a moment longer, his lips rolling. He turned to Abbey and tilted his head to the office, "What do we have left?"

She gathered her binder and followed him through the double doors and waited for him to sit behind the desk before she settled into one of the visitor chairs.

"Okay," She began opening the binder, "You were right, the numbers from the housing authority precincts don't line up with the reports from central booking…"

"You're still here?" Garrett interrupted, entering unannounced, "I saw Henry heading out: I assumed you were too."

The Commissioner sighed and made exasperated eye contact with Abbey before he raised his eyebrow in Garrett's direction.

"Unlike my father, I'm not retired." He gestured to the copy of the report in front of him, "I still have work to do."

Garrett glanced at the file in Abbey's hands, "Misdemeanor booking discrepancies? After you locked up a cop killer Henry's been chasing for 4 decades?" He scoffed, "Learn to savor the moment, Frank."

"I _did_." The Commissioner nodded, "Which is why I personally observed the arrest."

"Oh come on." Garrett undid the button on his jacket as he dropped into the other chair, "Henry didn't offer to buy you a drink?"

Frank's jaw twitched, "We'll have a drink when I get home." He looked pointedly across the desk, "Which is why I would like to finish up here."

Garrett shook his head, "I don't get you Reagans."

"That's not news." Frank mumbled, turning his attention back to flipping through the folders on the desk.

He kept scanning the papers for a protracted moment before he looked back up, sighing at Garrett's continuing presence.

"Regular, good, steady police work isn't something to get too worked up about." He explained, "It's a file I can pull out of my cold case drawer but there are still 9 more in there."

"Well," Abbey couldn't help but contribute, "It's also a cold case out of your father's and Danny's drawers too."

"Right, it's been a family affair." Frank acknowledged.

She shook her head, "What I meant was that if you hadn't recognized DiCarlo and then hadn't convinced Detective Miller to wear a wire, then the case would still be unsolved."

"Exactly." Garrett agreed. "If not proud they must at least be grateful."

The Commissioner grimaced, brushing it off.

She shrugged, "Your father did say that DiCarlo's undoing was that he underestimated you."

A muscle ticked by the Commissioner's eyes, "When?"

"Just now." She gestured to the office doors and the direction of the stairs, "After the press conference."

A moment passed and the Commissioner's jaw remained firm. "Well…" He cleared his throat, "Just glad it's done." He looked down, "For all of us."

* * *

"Just like old times." Nucifero smirked at the video of a dog driving a sports car.

"What? Eric doesn't play animal videos?" Abbey teased as she put away her phone.

"McCarthy is more of a late night show monologue type guy." Jim shrugged as he gestured to the front door of the house. "He's coming."

Jim stepped out to open the door for the approaching Commissioner while Abbey leaned back in her seat, settling into a more professional mind frame. She had joined the detail rotation for the week to cover for Detective McCarthy who was on a ski vacation. Although she was missing the productivity of the quiet half hour in the office before the PC arrived, it was nice spending more time with Jim and participating in some of the lighthearted exchanges that happened during the commute.

She jumped in her seat when the corner of her eye caught something flying through the air and Jim rushing forward.

By the time she came around the side of the SUV the Commissioner was sitting on the walkway, a strained look on his face. There was no sign of any immediate threat although his briefcase was on the grass a good 10 feet away and the back of his jacket was wet.

"What happened?!" She started up the steps from the sidewalk.

"Careful!" The Commissioner pointed to the walkway, "Ice." He managed before grimacing and reaching for his ankle.

Noting the sheen over the long walkway she deduced a clear picture of what just happened.

"Are you alright?" She asked, moving off the stone steps and into the grass, picking up his briefcase and returning to where Jim was attempting to offer help while the Commissioner struggled to stand.

"Mrmph." The PC grunted, momentarily giving up on the effort and taking a breather.

Both she and Jim looked up at the sound of the front door opening, "Francis?! What happened?"

"Nothing, Pop. I'm fine." Frank ground out without looking in the direction of his father.

Henry snorted. "Sure you are. Get yourself inside; I'm going to call Dr. Fried." He ambled away, leaving the front door open.

A few more tries and the Commissioner managed to make it to his feet. He took a tentative step and would have fallen back down if not for Jim's quick support.

Abbey felt her eyebrows skyrocket at the rare and colorful curse he used before exhaling a huff and irritated mutter, "I think I'm going to need some help."

With both Jim and Abbey's shoulders serving for support, the trio managed to get into the house and maneuver into the front room.

Frank remained leaning on Jim as Henry and Abbey helped him shrug out of his dirtied overcoat and suit jacket. Abbey stepped back but Henry hovered nearby as his son settled into one of the stuffed chairs, gingerly resting his left foot on the ottoman. "Didja break it?"

"I don't know…" Frank sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead.

Henry frowned, "You're lucky you didn't crack your skull."

" _So_ lucky." He yanked on the knot on his tie and scowled.

Henry looked about to say something else when the sound of the back door opening pulled everyone's attention before a new voice called out, "Henry? Frank?"

"Doc." Henry turned to the kitchen, "In the front."

The Commissioner gestured to Abbey, "Baker, give Sarge… _Lieutenant_ Gormley a call and let him know we're going to be late. Ask him to take this morning's call with Johhny Lyons."

"Of course." She moved to the kitchen, followed closely by Jim.

She made the call and they shared a pot of coffee as they waited to be summoned after the doctor departed.

"Detectives!"

"Don't holler." Henry reprimanded, "I could have gotten them."

The Commissioner ignored his father, jaw firm, and hand gripping a wooden cane.

Abbey eyed the large black boot encasing his ankle, "Do we need to stop somewhere for an xray?"

"No." He scowled. "I've been sidelined."

She raised her eyebrows and glanced to Henry whose eyes were fixated on his son.

The Commissioner sighed and scrubbed at his face, "Baker, do you have a copy of the day's schedule?"

She nodded and began flipping through her phone in search of the file.

"We obviously weren't prepared for me to take the day off so let's push to next week whatever we can and maybe set up a conference call or two for folks we can't." He suggested as she scanned the agenda.

"There actually isn't much." She confirmed, "The mayor should be easy to drop off the schedule and I can email you a few things. Lieutenant Gormley can handle Compstat. A call with him, Garrett and myself midday could cover most everything else."

She frowned, "Do you still have the fax machine? There are somethings you need to sign. I could pick them up and bring them back if that's easier."

"Look," Henry stepped forward, gesturing, "If you're going to insist on working, how about instead of all of this nonsense with files and conference calls and faxes, you just meet here?"

The Commissioner looked at his father with reluctance.

"What?" Henry shrugged, "It's just Detective Baker, Sid and Garrett, right? It's not like we don't have the space." He gestured to the dining room behind him, "I'll put on some coffee, and tea." He winked at Abbey.

The Commissioner frowned, mulling the suggestion over.

Henry rolled his eyes, "Go ahead Detective, make the call, invite them over." He was gesturing to her phone. "Francis, go change your clothes and I'll make some muffins."

He nodded his head decisively and turned in the direction of the kitchen.

" _Alright_ …" The Commissioner blinked, working his jaw, "I guess that's the plan then." He grabbed the cane and pushed himself up, "Baker, make it clear to Sid and Garrett this is _not_ an order; we can just as easily do a conference call." He turned to Jim, "Looks like you're getting the day off."

Nucifero glanced to Abbey and she shrugged, "I can get a ride back with the DCPI." She assured, "Just let me grab my bag from the front seat."

"Thanks, the both of you." The PC nodded before wincing and moving to the foot of the stairs, leaning heavily on the cane. He looked up the narrow staircase and grumbled something unintelligibly before starting up.

 _I_

After Jim left, and she had called the Special Assistant and DCPI with details of the meeting and instructions as to which binders to grab from her desk, Abbey settled at the kitchen table as Henry moved around pulling together biscuit ingredients.

She smirked as he hummed to himself.

"What?" He spotted her grin.

"When did you learn to bake?" She asked instead of commenting how amusing it was to see the domestic side of the gruff former cop.

"I've always known how to cook and bake." He replied with a cocky smile before he deflated slightly, "I just didn't get _good_ until I found Betty's recipe cards a few years after she passed."

Abbey smiled, "Betty was your wife?"

"Yep." Henry nodded. He put down the pan and pulled out his wallet and sat in the chair next to her. "Here she is."

He held it out so Abbey could see a small black and white photo tucked into the plastic sleeve. It was of a beaming young man in a Marine LtCpl uniform and a woman with dark wavy hair, tight smile and kind eyes.

"She was quite a looker." Henry smiled wistfully and Abbey could see the shadow of the young marine's grin.

"You cut quite a dashing figure too, sir." Abbey pointed to the picture.

Henry snorted, "Back in the day…" He adjusted his glasses, "But whereas I eventually began to show my age Betty just got better; here is a good one in color for you-" He flipped the picture revealing a picture of Betty with an infant posed stiffly in front of a Christmas tree.

Abbey could feel her grin growing, "Is that the Commissioner?"

"Uh…" Henry's smile faltered and he rolled his lips in a familiar manner, "Actually, no. But _this_ is." He flipped to a third image of a baby in a baptism outfit.

"As is this." He flipped to another of a boy of about 6 or 7 straddling a blue bicycle and staring seriously back at the camera.

Henry pointed to picture, "You see that getting himself injured is nothing new."

"Apparently." Abbey nodded, amusedly taking note of the large scrapes on both knees and a band aid on his elbow.

The older man shook his head and angled the picture to see it better himself.

Whatever was going through his mind as he looked at the old picture was interrupted by the clomping sound of the Commissioner coming down the stairs.

Henry pocketed his wallet and moved back to the stove before the Commissioner arrived.

"How'd you manage those stairs for so long with your hip?" Frank groused upon entering the kitchen.

"Just fine." Henry dismissed, putting the biscuits in the oven.

Frank leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, "You're _actually_ making biscuits?"

Henry stood up, hands on his hips, "I am. Aren't you supposed to be keeping your foot elevated?"

He shifted his balance, "I'm not going to conduct a meeting like that."

"Don't be stubborn." Henry pointed the spatula at him.

Frank scowled but his retort was cut off by the doorbell.

Abbey glanced at Henry in his apron and the Commissioner in his ankle boot. Anticipating her question the Commissioner gestured, "Baker, can you get the door? We'll do this in the dining room."

 _I_

The rundown meeting went longer than normal as they tried to cover everything that came to pass over the course of a typical day. By the time they were wrapping up the Commissioner was shifting in his seat. Abbey could only imagine the pressure that was building in his swollen ankle which he had yet to elevate or ice despite that being the primary reason for working from home.

When he asked for a moment to speak with Garrett alone, Abbey led Lt Gormley to the kitchen.

Henry was nowhere to be found. He hadn't reappeared since he tersely dismissed an invitation to join the meeting over an hour ago.

"That's good." Sid commented and Abbey's eyes followed his gesture to a small orange pill bottle on the counter. "Boss is starting to look uncomfortable."

"Yeah. I hope Garrett wraps up soon." She agreed, stepping up to the counter. The bottle was some prescription strength anti-inflammatory and pain killers.

A note was next to it, " _Doc dropped these off. Don't be stubborn – take one and lie down for the afternoon. There's a turkey sandwich in the fridge. I'll be back before dinner. –H."_

Henry's writing was blockier than the Commissioner's but there was a lighter swoop to his 'H' as if the initial itself was an entire signature.

She smiled, maybe she misread the older man's earlier departure.

"What was up with that thing between them anyway?" Sid asked, reading over her shoulder and apparently mirroring her train of thought.

"What do you mean?" She evaded, not making eye contact.

Sid huffed, "You're right; none of our business." He picked up another piece of muffin and leaned against the counter, "I just hope I didn't screw up by calling Henry 'Commissioner'."

"The PC told you that you were right." Abbey shrugged.

Sid nodded, finishing the muffin, "I know it was before your time but Henry was a good Commissioner. Really helped turn the city around. Wasn't right how he got ousted."

"I've only heard bits and pieces." Abbey leaned on the island, glancing back to the dining room to be sure the PC was still in deep conversation with Garrett.

Sid shrugged, "I mean, I was a precinct officer and D-3 at the time so I don't know too much about the real ins and outs of it. The city had been declining all through the 70s, the corruption scandals really scarred the department and when crack came through in the 80s everything was just a royal mess."

He shook his head, memories playing across his face, "I'm sure you've heard the stories. Our equipment was outdated, training was limited, there was no respect, no support, no money, no morale."

"But Reagan came in…" He paused, frowning, "87 was it? I don't think it was as early as 86 and he was definitely there in 88…" He pursed his lips for a moment more, "Anyways, he comes in and raises holy hell. He made city council and the mayor sit up and realize that they needed to give the department resources."

"It took awhile but things started to turn around. Folks really started paying attention after the Times Square revamp and the NYPD was suddenly almost respected again. The Commissioner had interviews in some of the national papers and even Times magazine did a piece on the city and the department."

He paused, his smile remaining for a beat until it faded to a pucker, "And then something happened. It seemed like overnight Reagan was out and Bergen was in. It was never really clear why."

Abbey bit her lip making a tentative connection between Sid's story, the other things she'd heard in passing, and the current Commissioner's strong aversion to any kind of media attention.

She picked at a muffin, "Do you know what Henry did after?"

"Just retired as far as I know." The Lieutenant shrugged, "That's about when he started with the Police Athletic League and the Widows and Kids Fund. After 9/11 he came down to the pile to help with the chow lines and make sure we all had things like face masks and radio batteries."

"I wonder if I saw him and just don't remember." She mused out loud.

"Probably." Sid nodded, "I remember that first week between him, the Commish and Danny that you couldn't turn a corner without running into a Reagan."

She smiled, recalling thinking that then Deputy Chief Reagan was seemingly everywhere. She wished she could go back in time and see all the people she crossed paths with during those weeks who would later play larger roles in her life.

She looked around the homey kitchen, eyes catching on the apron hung by the fridge. "Must have been hard to suddenly be forced to stop working."

Sid shrugged, "Probably. But it's the same deal with all the guys hitting the required age of retirement." He gestured to the dining room, "Looks like they're wrapping up."

She paused to grab the pill bottle and note before following him in.

The PC's eyes immediately focused on the bottle in her hand. "If he sent you in with that…"

"He didn't, sir." She interrupted, handing over the note as she placed the bottle on the table in front of him.

He frowned as he read the note, face pinched, "Oh. Okay. Well."

"Everything okay, Frank?" Garrett paused putting on his jacket, noting the reaction.

"Yeah." Frank nodded pushing away from the table, as Abbey began to pack up the files, "Thanks again for making the trip."

"Sure thing."

"Of course, Boss."

Abbey hesitated, "If it looks like it will be easier to take Monday off, just call me on Sunday, it won't be a problem to move things around."

"Hopefully, that's not necessary." He rolled his eyes, "But thank you."

"Where's Henry?" Garrett poked his head around the corner to the kitchen.

Frank glanced back at the note in his hand, "I don't know."

"He left?" Garrett looked first to Abbey then back to the PC.

"Apparently." Frank put down the note and shifted in his seat to adjust his leg.

"Really? For how long? Do you want us to stay?" Garrett looked around.

Frank looked up, brow knitted, "Why?"

Garrett blinked, "Because…" He gestured to the Commissioner's foot.

"Thank you for you concern." Frank patronized.

The DCPI looked between Abbey and Sid but neither of them reacted. Sid took the box of files from Abbey and led the way out the door.

"Careful for the ice." The Commissioner cautioned.

Abbey smirked, "Thank you sir. Call if you need anything from the office. I can drop it off when I head home tonight."

"Thank you." He nodded.

She stepped around the DCPI who remained hesitating by the table.

"Good-bye Garrett." The Commissioner prodded.

Garrett shook his head, "Okay. Try to take it easy Frank."

Abbey couldn't hear the Commissioner's response from her position by the front door but Garrett was shaking his head as he passed her, heading to the cars.

"I don't get it." He shook his head, once the door shut behind them, "I know Frank and a lot of other guys hold Henry in high esteem but I can't say I ever did."

Abbey blinked, surprised by the contrast between that and the opinion Gormley had shared in the kitchen. "Why?"

"Putting aside my own opinions as a reporter when he was on the 14th floor? I can never wrap my head around him and Frank. For a long time I thought it was just professional distance, like Frank and _his_ boys, but I honestly think it's more than that."

"He's just not _demonstrative_ enough for you?" Abbey raised her eyebrows.

"Don't make it sound so judgey." He griped, "I just mean that Henry doesn't tend to think much about how what he does affects other people; and that includes his own son. As a father I believe one should at the very least be considerate of that and as Frank's friend I believe he deserves better."

Abbey frowned, thinking back over the morning, from Henry's brusque reaction to the Commissioner's incident, to his hovering and insistence on holding the meeting at the house and the photos in his wallet, to his chiding and then the strange reaction to being invited to the meeting and his apparent leaving the house without checking in but still making an effort to leave a lunch in the fridge.

"I think it's complicated." Was her only reply to Garrett.

* * *

"And Chief Daniels has asked for some time to discuss the new security recommendations for the St Patrick's Day parade." Abbey read off her notepad.

The Commissioner frowned, "Let's slide him in where Jacobs cancelled tomorrow."

"Done." She made the note, "And that's it for the day."

"Good." He nodded, "One last thing…"

She looked up at his hesitation.

He rocked his head, "I feel bad asking but could you help me track down a medal presentation box? I've been meaning to get around to it this past week and just haven't managed it."

"A shadow box?" She tilted her head, "Sure, what size?"

"Just for one." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a familiar medal with a blue ribbon.

"Detective Reagan's?" She smiled.

The Commissioner nodded, an odd look of affection and something else crossing his face as he looked at it.

"I assume it's a surprise so you can't ask him but do you know where he'd likely be displaying it so I know what finish the frame should be?"

"Doesn't matter." He shook his head, "It'll be on the bookshelf in my private office."

Her pen, poised to make the note, went loose in her hand, and she blinked, "He gave it to you?"

The Commissioner shrugged and nodded at once, "Yeah. Well, Pop kinda, but yeah, Danny did."

She frowned and he sighed, thumb lightly tracing the medallion, "When I was debating about approving Sid's recommendation Pop mentioned he was once in the same boat and regretted his choice at the time. Apparently he wanted to rectify it and he and Danny have always been effective co-conspirators."

He smiled fondly before looking back to her with a self-effacing shrug.

She mirrored his smile, "That's very sweet. I'm sure you were touched."

Frank nodded, "Pops has never been good at saying that kind of stuff but he has always been good at showing it."

Abbey straightened as a memory crossed her mind, "You know he once told me something along those lines."

He looked up sharply, "What? When?"

"A few years ago." She replied, "After you got shot. He said he's never been good at saying he's proud of you or that he loves you but he is and he does." She smirked "And then he promptly threatened the Brennans."

Frank huffed in amusement at the end of her sentence but his eyes unfocused and he looked away.

"Once." He spoke quietly, taking a long time to return his attention to Abbey, "He has said the actual words once."

She looked at him, anticipating an elaboration.

He swallowed, thumb again tracing the ridges of the medal still in his hands, "He used the word proud right before I shipped out for Vietnam." He took a deep breath, "And I had a chance to call home from a hospital over there after somethings went south. That was the only time he actually said the word love to me."

He exhaled and looked down to the medal. "Mothers and daughters are easier." He muttered.

Abbey blinked and tilted her head.

He smiled softly and shrugged, "Mikey is still at the age where it doesn't matter, but at some point boy's egos grow and they don't go in for the hugs and loves like they used to. Daughters don't grow out of that." He exhaled, "And mothers don't care." He shook his head, "Being the only kid, my mother was pretty effusive with the praise; even when I was a teen and tried to push back. My old man used to use that too his advantage; he'd let Mum have her say and then he'd just tack on a 'Me Too' and a pat on the shoulder."

"And since she passed there hasn't even been that much?" Abbey guessed.

"Just not his way." Frank shrugged again. "But it doesn't matter if he actually says it. We don't need that between us."

He gripped the medal in his hand and slipped it back in to his pocket where Abbey suspected it had been for the better part of the week and where it would likely remain until she was able to provide a suitable place for it.


	59. Portent

_A/N Takes place during 'Occupational Hazard' with references to 'In The Box' and 'The Poor Door'._

 _I am TOTALLY fictionalizing a big plot point that will carry through a few more chapters…but there's nothing in the series to say this **didn't** happen so I'm adding it in to create a little more spice : - )_

* * *

"Detective?"

Abbey looked up to see Lt Gormley approaching her desk.

His eyes were wide and his jaw was tight. "Hey, uh, can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Of course." She frowned, "What's wrong?"

He hesitated, glancing around the busy back office and the people moving around her desk. Sensing his desire for a more private space she stood up and moved to the conference room, "How about we talk in here?"

"Yeah." Sid nodded and followed her in. He waited for the door to close before he looked back at her, "After Arbogast left you helped sort through a lot of the stuff on his desk, right?"

She nodded, "I _helped_ but Mitch and Julia from your office really did a lot of it."

He brushed off her attempt to qualify her involvement, "Do you recall seeing a UC report from the Warrior Kings around the time Clinton Wallace was convicted?"

Abbey's brow pinched as she tried to think back. "Wallace? Was that the guy back in September, the triple homicide or something?"

"Yeah." Sid nodded, "He was, probably still is, the head of the Warrior Kings. Do you know the report I am talking about?"

She shook her head, "No, I don't. All I know about the Warrior Kings is that they were one of the groups that tried to move in when we cleaned Los Lordes out of mid-town."

Sid shifted uneasily, "What about Detective Downing? Do you know where he is?"

Abbey remembered the name alright, and it seized at her heart, "Ian died early October. Right around Columbus Day."

"No…" The Lieutenant leaned back against the table, "What happened?"

Abbey clasped her hands together, "His family wanted it quiet. He died of an overdose. Apparently, he and his wife separated sometime last summer and he was having a hard time with it. He reached out to the department's mental health services in September but it wasn't enough."

"Gawd." Sid exhaled and looked down. "Okay."

She tilted her head, "Why, what did he have that you need?"

"Context, and explanation." He held up a sheet of paper. "He was working undercover with the Warrior Kings and included this in his September report. I didn't understand why there wasn't any follow up or subsequent reports."

Abbey nodded, "Now you know."

Sid huffed and looked back at the paper. Abbey stepped forward, "What did he say?"

The Lieutenant bit his lip and looked her over for a beat before handing over the document.

She accepted it, scanning the familiarly formatted report until she came upon the section that she knew had been the impetus for Sid's concern.

 _'_ _WK4 & WK 5 met us at the bottom of the courthouse steps and informed us WK1 had been convicted and that we were to meet at the Lexington Ave apt that evening._

 _Arrived at 22:18 with WK11. WK 4, 5, 7, 8, 10, 13, 14, 15, 16, RT, YR & MM were already there. WK2 and 3 arrived at 23:42._

 _WK2 informed us that nothing would change – orders would be coming from the same pipeline – WK1 has the joint wired and would still be in charge. He cautioned us against making the same mistakes as Los Lordes; no show boating. He explained that the PD was targeting midtown gangs and to leave 'addressing the pigs' to WK1 and his top lieutenants. He encouraged patience, stepped up recruitment and promised when the opportunity presents itself they will be showing the PD some Warrior King justice; you try to take off the King's head and we will do the same to you.'_

Abbey's eyes went wide and she forced herself to take a deep breath before looking up to Sid.

"We know that WK1 meant Wallace but we don't know the rest of his short hand." He explained.

She nodded, re-reading the passage. "Okay…" She breathed, "You're right, this shouldn't have been missed. It should have gone straight to Chief Fiorino or Chief Kent. I'm sorry." She shook head.

"Not your fault." Sid tried to comfort, "It was a messy transition. I'm actually amazed at how little fell through the cracks."

"Any shouldn't be acceptable…" She sighed, "When was this? The end of September?"

"6 months." Sid did the math out loud.

She glanced to the door leading to the Commissioner's office, "You don't think this was just guys blowing off steam." It was a statement, not a question.

Sid lifted a shoulder, "I think if it was serious enough for an undercover to write it out then it's serious enough. No one ever got killed for being too cautious about a gang threat."

Her gut clenched, "You think they meant the Commissioner?"

"Who else?" He shook his head, "He's been the one pushing for cleaning out the Midtown gangs and there's no one more tops around here than him."

Abbey bit her lip, reading the text for a third time.

"The question is, do we tell him?" Garrett looked at her.

"If it's a serious threat we have to." She replied automatically. "Hold on."

She stepped over and pulled open the glass door, "Detective Nucifero, do you have a moment?"

Jim looked up from his desk with the slight tug of a frown as he read the urgency in her innocuous request.

He stood and joined them with a few quick steps.

She wordlessly handed over the paper, ignoring the uncertain grimace on Sid's face.

Jim read it once, stopping where she knew he would. He then read it a second time, slowly going over the final paragraph.

"Where did this come from?" He asked, finally looking up.

"It was in the final report Ian Downing submitted. He had been UC with the Warrior Kings." Sid explained. "Fell through the cracks in the absence of a Chief of Department; I just pulled it up today."

Abbey crossed her arms, "I assume you're reading it the same way we are?"

"As a threat against Reagan? Yeah." Jim answered curtly.

She sighed, "Given it's been six months how do you rate it? A mention in the end of the day briefing or should the Lt brief him now?"

Jim frowned, "Given the reference to patience and opportunity and that most of the last 6 months have been the dead of winter I think the time is negligible. Now that it's Daylight Savings he's going to want to do things like address the press outdoors, walk to City Hall and lord knows what he'll do on his off time."

"Fishing…" She breathed recalling coming across the PC by himself on the Brooklyn piers. It would be too easy for a gang hitman to work out the PCs habits and create an opportunity.

"He needs to know that we take this seriously." She nodded.

"That's my thought." Jim looked to Sid.

Sid blinked, "What? Me? Now?"

Abbey nodded, "He's just with Garrett. I don't know what they're talking about but it can't be more important than this."

"Shouldn't you? You're his detail." Sid reluctantly accepted the paper back from Jim.

"You're the Special Assistant." Abbey returned automatically, "It will carry more weight coming from you."

Sid sighed but turned to the door, hesitating, "Maybe you two should both be in with me anyway? To help emphasis the point? He's not going to like hearing this."

Abbey looked to Jim who nodded, "We'll need to have a discussion about tightening protocol."

"Alright." She stepped around Sid and knocked on the door that led to the adjoining office.

"What?" Snarled the Commissioner as she opened it.

"Sir, Lieutenant Gormley needs to speak with you."

She caught Garrett's shaking of his head and gesturing out of the corner of her eye but ignored him.

"Not a good time right now, Baker." He was rubbing at the bridge of his nose but she stepped aside, allowing Sid then Jim to enter.

"I'm sorry, sir." She waited for him to look up, "But we think it's important."

He huffed but held his tongue, tilting his head and watching with curiosity as Jim came to stand a step behind Sid.

The Lieutenant squared up between the two visitor chairs, "In the course of going through some back dated material I came across this."

He ignored Garrett's attempts to glimpse the contents of the paper as he turned it over to the Commissioner.

The PC frowned, pulling his glasses out of his vest pocket and they all waited in silence as he read the concerning report.

He pursed his lips then exhaled and held the paper back up to Gormley, "So?"

"Uhh…" He looked to Abbey and Jim and then back to the Commissioner, "It's a threat. On you."

"Is it?" Frank tilted his head, "Because what I read is a couple of gangbangers posturing for their crew 6 months ago."

Abbey clenched her teeth, "Sir, we are in agreement that it's not something to be taken lightly."

He stared back at her for a long moment and she forced herself to maintain eye contact, not flinch or blink.

Just like the poker games, he looked away first, disguising his acquiescence with a shake of his head, "You know what's not to be taken lightly? The fact that despite 2 years of dedicated focus by some of the best cops I've ever known, we haven't seemed to be able to move the needle on these gangs. We lock one up and it just creates a vacuum for another to take their place. They think they run this town; dealing right under the noses of our officers, threatening ADAs, gunning down innocent people…"

"Threatening ADAs?" Abbey picked up on the change in his voice.

He pushed at his cell phone sitting on the desk in front of him, "That 911 call Erin made last week? I had Danny look into it. She's being harassed by 6th St Death Corps. They broke into her apartment and put one of her assistants in the hospital and have been stalking her _despite_ a protective detail."

He dropped a fist to the table with a bang, "And you want me to, what? Get worked up because some punks were upset their buddy got locked up?" He shook his head, "They don't deserve the respect it requires to take them seriously."

"With all due respect, sir, it's the Warrior Kings. They have a reputation." Sid frowned.

"So do I." The Commissioner glared at him, "And I don't cower." He leaned forward, "Lieutenant, I want everyone in this building to understand that the gang life in this city has to be dealt with, no pussy footing around with these guys."

He looked to Abbey, "Get Chief Kent on my schedule. I want a full briefing on the 6th St Death Corps and the Fathers of Doom."

"Yes Sir." She contained her sigh.

"And what about the Hero's Fund? Anything more on that?" He snapped.

His tone was short brokering no space for resistance. With reluctance she nodded, enabling the diversion, "You were right, N-LETS had a hit. It looks like Lauren Vickers is one of several pseudonyms and she has outstanding warrants for fraud and larceny in multiple states."

The Commissioner's jaw slowly worked open as he stared back, processing.

" _Unbelievable_." He breathed, shaking his head, shoulders dropping. "Jim, pull the car around; we're going to execute those warrants _right_ now. Baker, print it out, I'll read the file in the car."

"Sir." Jim spoke up from where he stood, "I think we should continue the discussion regarding the threat discovered by Lieutenant Gormley."

Nucifero's tone was quiet and even but the rare event of the discrete Detective not only speaking up, but countering an order of the Commissioner's was enough to draw everyone's frozen attention.

For a long moment the Commissioner looked steadily back to his bodyman, "Maybe later." He eventually acquiesced, " _This_ first." He jabbed a finger to the desktop as he stood, "There's a lot I need to just stand by and accept but not this, not now. Let's go."

"Yes, Sir." Jim gave a short nod and turned to leave the office. Without waiting to be excused, Abbey followed him through the double doors.

"I'll try to bring it up again in the car." Jim assured as he grabbed his jacket.

"Thank you." She nodded and set about printing the summary the PC would need.

She knew if anyone could get the Commissioner to take the threat seriously it would be Jim; Frank Reagan would never want his own pride to put someone else's life in danger and if he ignored the threat that is exactly what he'd be doing to the members of his detail.

A few moments later he exited the office, still steaming. He barely acknowledged her as he accepted the report on Ms. Elise Wickfield and listened, stone faced, as she gave a quick run-down of the situation as he waited for the elevator.

She sighed after the elevator doors closed and she turned to find the DCPI and Special Assistant still standing by her desk.

"Just bad timing." Garrett was telling Sid, "He had just hung up with Danny when you guys came in. A couple guys on bikes just stalked Erin to the 5-4 and Danny and Baez are on their way to attempt an arrest now. He was more than a little worked up about it."

"Aww damnit." Sid muttered, "I'm never going to get this right."

"Don't say that." Garrett shook his head, "Bad timing is all."

Sid shook his head and leaned against the cabinet with his arms crossed.

"Seriously Sid," Garrett shifted the papers in his hand, "You've been doing a great job."

The Lieutenant looked around the room and leaned in, "It's not getting any easier."

"It won't." Abbey teased, "But Garrett is right, you're alright. Lots of folks are talking about how you handled Weams."

"What do you mean?" Sid looked at her, eyebrow raised.

"I mean that the folks who might have doubted you have gotten a lot quieter." She shrugged.

"You've made the transition from a precinct boss to headquarters staff with that one." Garrett added.

Sid exhaled, "Well at least something good came from it. I don't mind saying that sucked. I standby everything, but it wasn't easy."

Garrett pursed his lips, "You knew it was a test?"

"I figured." He shrugged with a nod, "Reagan kept pushing but it seemed like a small thing for him to keep focusing on considering everything else on his plate. There had to be something else to it."

Garrett blinked, sizing up his colleague with visible surprise and respect. "Well, you more than passed." He finally admitted after a long pause, "So stop doubting yourself."

Abbey smiled her encouragement too.

Sid gave a stilted nod and looked sideways at the two of them. "Thanks. I couldn't have made it through these last few months without the two of you."

"Ah don't mention it." Garrett grinned, "We're good at cashing in IOUs."

"He's right." Abbey smirked.

"Great." Sid rolled his eyes but smiled. "Alright," He slapped the paper in his hand, "Back to figuring out what other surprises lurk at the bottom of the pile."

She grinned, watching him stroll away but his words hit her, she knew she was being hard on herself but she did feel personally responsible for the memo being overlooked for so long.

"He really is doing well." Garrett interrupted her thoughts.

She tilted her head, "You've come around."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He tilted his head, frowning.

"Oh come on." She stepped around him to return to stand behind her desk, glancing at her inbox as she spoke, "You weren't enthusiastic about it from the beginning."

"Maybe at first I was concerned for how it might blow back on Frank and that his rank might make the job harder for Sid but I never had any problem with the guy." He pulled back, shaking his head.

"Right." Abbey nodded, "And the two of you bickering like 9 year olds for 2 months was just what? Burning off extra energy?"

"Okay, so maybe there was…" He paused, "An adjustment period."

She looked him over. She knew Garrett valued his relationship with the Commissioner in a way that even the PC didn't understand and she suspected she knew the real source of the winter's friction between him and the Special Assistant. "He does have a different relationship with the PC than any of the past chiefs." She suggested.

"You can say that." Garrett nodded, "He jumped onto the inside track awfully fast.

"Well it's not like he was brand new." She shrugged, "The Commissioner already knew him and trusted him in a way that he hasn't since Bell."

"And I'm sure it helped having Danny as an advocate." Garrett nodded.

"Well, Danny _did_ call when he thought Gormley was in trouble before he was transferred but I don't think there was too much advocating about the promotion itself." She shook her head, "I think it's more likely that the PC was really feeling disconnected from the rank and file and the Lieutenant is the right kind of street cop at the right time."

Garrett snorted and she smirked.

He tapped at the edge of her desk, and she watched him, uncertain what to make of his hovering.

"Everything okay?"

He shrugged, "Yeah. Why?"

"Nothing." She shook it off but her concern got her thinking and raised another specter of guilt and she bit her lip, "By the way, I meant to say earlier…"

She swallowed and Garrett tilted his head, "What?"

"I'm sorry about Sam." She finished.

"Oh." He looked down a beat and tried to give her a pained smile, "Well thanks, but we made a deal with the ADA. We're hopeful."

She returned the falsely positive smile, "Well that's good but I am still sorry; I know you didn't want the Commissioner to know about the other incidents."

His eyes tightened but his smile turned more genuine, " _Abbey_. It's alright. You and I have talked about this. It was foolish for me to assume he wouldn't ask and I know that once you were asked you couldn't _not_ do your job." He sighed, "In fact it's I who should be apologizing to you for putting you in that position."

She rolled her eyes, " _That_ 's certainly not necessary." She tried to relax her shoulders, "I understand completely. And I _did_ try to cover for you as best I could when he asked for my assumptions or information not readily available."

"I appreciate that." Garrett nodded, "I never faulted you. Like I said, I should have known Frank would look into it. I just had to take the chance he wouldn't, even if that chance was infinitesimal."

"Sam's your kid." She empathized simply. The thought of a good kid, from a good home, falling into a drug habit scared her more than she cared to admit.

He nodded, "The DA gave him a continuance. He's in a new program out in Arizona. The hope is that a rehab program far from his friends will stick more. If he passes 20 weeks there then it will just be community service when he comes back."

"I'll be pulling for you." She tried to infuse her word with honest encouragement.

"Thanks." He nodded.

A strained silence stretched between them, each lost in their own thoughts, hesitating to move.

Finally, Garrett broke the moment with a sigh, "So you and Jim are really concerned about the memo Sid found?"

Abbey winced, she hoped for a change of topic but that wouldn't have been her top choice.

"The Commissioner essentially declared war on the gangs the day they shot Vinny Cruz." She sighed, "We've been concerned about them since he made a big show about cleaning out Bitterman. The Kings memo isn't the first threat we've heard but it is concerning."

"Why?" Garrett tilted his head.

"Because," She dropped warily to her chair, "Almost nothing comes from threats that are explicitly made and sent in via mail or crank call. When actually someone intends on doing something they almost never give you a heads up about it. This was by a top lieutenant talking to other ranking bangers of a gang with a particular reputation, without much to lose and with a point to make."

Garrett exhaled long and low. He glanced to Jim's empty desk and then back to her. "Well, let's just hope you're wrong."

"In this instance I'd be more than happy to be wrong." Abbey readily agreed, even as a voice whispered in the back of her brain that it wouldn't be that simple.


	60. Casuistry

_A/N - This Starts in Bad Company, but refers to Occupational Hazard and skimming references are made to Through the Looking Glass, Payback and Power Players. Yay for mashing up bunches of Season 5 episodes!_

* * *

"I don't understand what's wrong with these…" Brian frowned.

Abbey rolled her eyes and pulled the package of curtains out of his hands, returning it to the shelf. "It'll clash. Do you feel like reupholstering the sofa?"

Brian shrugged and made a face at Michael in the shopping cart.

"Clash! Oh no!" He teased with exaggeration until Michael giggled.

Abbey ignored them and turned her attention back to the two samples she had in her hands.

"Of the two of us you spend the most time in the house, I would think you'd care a little more." She grumbled.

She didn't look back at him but she could hear his sigh and feel him move closer to her, resting his chin on her shoulder, "I _do_ care that our home looks good but you _know_ I don't have any idea _how_ to make it look good."

She looked at him sideways, "So why bother coming? If you don't care what I pick out then we're just wasting time."

He stepped back and pulled the cart between them. "Because it's a Saturday which is one of only two days you get to spend with your son." He waited for her to look at him, "I thought you might appreciate it."

She clenched her jaw for a beat but smiled at Michael and tickled the side of his face with the fabric in her hand.

She took a breath and internally tempered her tone before she replied, "You know I appreciate spending time with him, but you also know I could do this so much more efficiently and then be able to spend fun time with him as opposed to dragging him across 3 different home goods stores."

"I'm not trying to start another fight." Brian grasped the side of the cart.

She tilted her head, "I know." She gave a wane smile, "We're both tired."

They had been up most the night. Abbey had mentioned she was considering buying a new handgun to which Brian had revealed he was uncomfortable having _any_ guns in the house now that Michael was getting older and revealing himself to be an incredibly curious and precocious toddler.

She bit her lip, thinking of an olive branch, "How about after we get the curtains we go to the sporting goods shop next door? There's lots of fun things for Michael to look at and we can see what they have for gun safes."

Brian looked back at her for a long moment. She could see his muscles tensing but he nodded, "Yeah. That sounds like a good plan."

"Detective?"

If either of them had anything more to say it was cut off by the interruption of a familiar, young voice.

Abbey turned and smiled, "Hi Nicky!"

The Commissioner's granddaughter grinned back, "I'm sorry to interrupt; I was just kind of surprised."

"Surprised?" She tilted her head.

"I guess it's kind of like seeing a teacher outside of school." Nicky shrugged, "It's weird not seeing you anywhere but Grandpa's office."

Abbey huffed a chuckle, avoiding the pointed look from her husband. "Well," She directed at Nicky, "Like your teachers, I do not actually sleep at my desk." She looked over her shoulder, "Brian, you remember Nicky? Erin Reagan's daughter?"

"Of course." Brian waved, "You've grown quite a bit since I saw you last."

Nicky smiled and shifted awkwardly before her eyes drifted to the cart, "Oh my gosh! Is that your son?"

Abbey nodded, "This is Michael." She confirmed, stroking his hair.

"HI!" Michael shouted happily at the sound of his name and the sudden attention, "My room painteded puubble!" He provided, unprompted.

"Painted purple?" Nicky clarified.

"Ya." Michael nodded. "We got new house and, um, we painteded and, um, I want pubble annndd Momma had pubble paint but, um, only my room."

"That. Is. Too. Cute." Nicky emphasized, "Oh my gosh." She stepped back and looked down the aisle she had come from, "Mom! Aunty Linda, come here!"

"Nicky…" Erin was sighing, "For once can we stick to the list we came wit…Oh." She drew up short as she turned the corner and saw who Nicky was talking to, "Abbey."

"HI!" Michael greeted, pulling Erin's attention, followed quickly by Linda.

"Is this Mike?" Erin gaped, "He's grown so much!".

"How did I not know you had a kid?!" Linda stepped forward, grinning at the toddler, "Hi there!"

"Hi!" Michael repeated, grinning and holding out the coupon book he had been brandishing.

"Yes, this is Michael." Abbey couldn't help but beam. "And you two remember my husband?"

"Yes, Brian, right?" Linda waved, "You didn't like my hot cocoa if I recall."

The comment broke Brian's standoff-ishness and he snorted, "I just needed a little warning is all."

"Why? Was it too hot?" Nicky looked between the chuckling adults.

"Don't worry about it." Erin shook her head, "Just your aunt causing trouble."

"Yeah, as if you didn't approve." Linda shouldered her sister-in-law.

Abbey grinned, "What's got you 3 out and about this weekend?"

"We visited the room I'll be staying at for college next year so we're getting decoration ideas." Nicky beamed.

"Exciting!" Abbey goaded.

"Very exciting." Brian agreed, "Next year as in this September?"

"Yes." Erin confirmed, "It's coming awfully fast."

"No kidding." Brian shook his head, "Last I saw Nicky, you were getting a piggy back ride from the Commissioner. And that feels like it was just last year."

Abbey's eyes flicked to her husband, "Honey, that's before we were even married."

"Still, feels like it wasn't that long ago." He shrugged.

"Embrace that he feels that way." Linda smirked, "It's when they say it feels like forever that you have a problem."

Erin rolled her eyes, "As if you'd know."

"Hey! Danny isn't all rainbow and sprinkles." Linda defended.

"I know, I know…" Erin acquiesced, turning her attention back to Michael, "But talk about time flying by; I think the last I saw this little guy was the summer after he was born…how old are you now?"

"TWO!" Michael held up 3 fingers, "But Immmmmm be dis many."

"That's right." Abbey grinned, "Can you tell Erin what you're going to do when you turn three in May?"

He looked back at her with wide eyes, thinking before a broad smile split his face, "Go wid Popup on da boat and fish!"

"Fish?" Erin grinned, "You like to fish?"

"I caught a fish." He boasted.

Abbey nodded, "He _loves_ fishing. Actually, I blame your father for that."

Erin looked to her with a confused turn and Abbey explained, "We ran into him on the piers last year and he helped Michael 'catch' his first fish."

"I remember Grampa teaching me how to fish!" Nicky's smile grew, "He would hold on to the top of the rod so I couldn't drop it."

"That's because when we were kids your Uncle Danny dropped your great-grandfather's favorite rod into the Hudson." Erin grinned as Linda rolled her eyes. "Grandpa made Dad go after it."

Nicky's smile softened and she sighed, "Maybe I should ask him to go again."

Erin's brow crinkled, "Fishing? You haven't shown interest in fishing in ages."

"I know…" Nicky sighed and picked at the bathroom matt in their shopping cart, "But he really liked it when we went and I still kind of feel bad for pushing him so much about the charity lady."

Erin nodded, "Well, I'm sure he's gotten over it but I'm glad you feel _some_ remorse."

"I do…" Nicky sighed, "I just sometimes feel like I'm the only one who isn't cynical about the whole world."

"I think you'd be surprised how often your Grandfather tries to see the best in a situation." Abbey purposefully stifled the memory of the conversation they had earlier in the week about whether even someone like Donald Berry could change. Subconsciously she reached out for Michael as the image of Sara Brown's murdered brother flickered through her mind. She shook it off, remembering that the PC had mentioned he and Sara had agreed to meet with Berry after all.

She smiled at Nicky, "Sometimes it's amazing the level of positivity he has given all he's dealt with; like that charity lady pulling that despicable stunt."

"Wait, what?" Nicky looked up, "I'm talking about the lady with the NYPD charity and the lightbulbs and stuff."

"That's who I thought you were talking about." Abbey nodded, glancing to Linda and Erin who were exchanging a look.

"What stunt?" Nicky pushed, "At dinner Grampa said that her story checked out."

Abbey bit her lip, "Oh. Well. I mean." She looked to Erin for help but the ADA just offered a slight shrug and nod in Nicky's direction.

Abbey sighed and acceded, "It took a while to find because she was using a pseudonym but it turns out the whole charity was a fraud; and one she had previously perpetrated in other states. She's currently being held awaiting trial in Georgia."

Nicky's mouth fell open and she stared back at Abbey with impossibly wide eyes. She looked back to her mother before her face crumpled, "He didn't tell me…"

"I know." Erin put her hand on her daughter's shoulder.

"Why didn't he tell me?" She shook her head, "I went on and on about how he should give people the benefit of the doubt and how good it felt to trust someone…and he was right all along." She blinked back to Abbey, "She said she was a 9/11 widow. She said she was at ground zero and that she had wanted to meet Grampa...it was all a lie?"

Abbey swallowed, "I'm sorry Nicky, when you mentioned her I thought you knew."

"Why wouldn't he tell me?" She rubbed an eye.

Linda smiled softly, "Maybe he wanted to protect you from that cynicism. He was trying to preserve your idealism because he knows that it's important to you."

A tear fell down Nicky's cheek but she didn't move to wipe it away.

Abbey sighed, "I'm really sorry."

"It's okay." Erin assured, tucking Nicky under her arm, "This was a good lesson to learn."

"What's that? Not to 'I told you so' Grampa?" Nicky muttered into her mother's side.

"No…" Erin shook her head, "That no matter how dirty the world is out there that your family will always look out for you. Don't base your faith in humanity on people like that woman, base it on people like your Grandfather, who cared more about maintaining your optimism than about making sure you knew he had been right."

Nicky wiped at her face, "Now I feel even worse than before."

"You're fine, Sweetie." Erin kissed her forehead, "I promise you, your Grampa isn't worrying about it."

Nicky sighed and straightened, even as her face showed her thoughts were still transfixed.

Erin gave a shrug to Linda who returned with an understanding grimace before looking back to Abbey, "You're still running Frank's office, right?"

"I wouldn't say _running_..." Abbey winced.

"Uh-huh." Linda brushed off. "How's Sid doing?" She grinned, "When Danny told me he had been transferred to 1PP I didn't believe him."

"Apparently neither did Sheila Gormley." Abbey smirked, "But he's been great. He's really settled in, feels as if he's always been there."

Linda nodded, "Danny said he thought it was a good call - unexpected but good." She shrugged, "I always liked him; you could tell he really cared about everyone in the squad. Far more than some of Danny's other bosses."

"The Lieutenant is one of the good ones." Abbey agreed.

"Boy, I would have loved to have been part of that first conversation though." Linda smiled, "I bet Sid's jaw was on the floor."

"I wasn't there for that but I know he was pretty surprised." Abbey nodded. She gestured to Linda, "How about you, you're still at St. Vic's ER?"

"St Vic's, yes." Linda nodded, "But I'm leaving the ER. The charge nurse for the ICU is retiring and up there I'll be able to have a little more control over my hours which is appealing"

"I'd bet! Congratulations." Abbey smiled.

"Oh! But…" Linda turned to Erin, "Remind me to talk to Jamie after dinner tomorrow."

"Sure, about what?" Erin tilted her head.

"Just a co-worker having a hard time with her son. He hangs out in Jamie's precinct." She waved her hand, "I just want to talk with him, see if we can help Curtis stay on the right path."

Erin nodded, "I'll remind you." She looked back to Abbey and Brian, "And I think we've interrupted enough of your afternoon…."

Abbey grinned, "Don't worry about it. Curtain shopping can always use some friendly interruption." She held up the samples in her hands, "Gut reaction?"

"That one"

"That one"

Linda and Erin replied simultaneously, pointing to opposite swatches.

Brian laughed as Abbey rolled her eyes, "Okay, you two are _no_ help."

"Our job is done and we'll be on our way!" Erin grinned and waived at Michael, "Bye Mike…" She glanced to Abbey, "You prefer Michael?"

She shrugged and glanced to Brian, "It's what we call him mostly."

Erin shook her head, "My father used to drive my mother crazy by shortening the boy's names all the time."

"Yeah, the Commissioner calls him Mikey." Abbey admitted.

Erin nodded, "I know he does; that's why I had to ask after I heard you say 'Michael'."

Abbey blinked at the information that the Commissioner had mentioned her son to Erin.

"Well, it doesn't really matter until he is able to tell us what he prefers." Brian filled in for her.

"Well, goodbye Michael." Erin waived again as Nicky smiled and made a face that Michael tried to replicate.

"Nice to see you again, Detective Baker." Linda nodded.

"Please, it's Abbey." She corrected.

Linda smiled, "Well, Abbey, have a good weekend with your family!"

"Thank you. You too." She smiled and watched the three members of the Reagan family turn a corner down another aisle.

"It's got to be a lot to handle being in that family." Brian commented after they were out of earshot.

Abbey turned back to him, but before she could elaborate on his thought, Michael grabbed at the fabric in Abbey's right hand.

"Preddy!"

She looked down, eyebrows raised.

"You like this one?"

He smiled, "It preddy."

"How about this one?" She held up the other swatch.

"No!" He pushed her hand away.

She looked up to Brian with a grin, "Okay, my apologies, shopping with Michael may end up being more productive than I thought!"

 _I_

With the help of Michael's impulsive tie breaking decisions they were soon checked out and heading out of the store with all they needed to finish redoing the living room.

"So is there some Reagan rule…see one and another isn't far away?" Brian commented out of the blue, drawing Abbey's attention.

"What?" She questioned until she followed his gaze to see Henry Reagan guiding a woman into a fancy restaurant up the block.

"Who's that with him?" Brian questioned.

She shook her head slowly, "I have no idea…"

* * *

She didn't have any idea until a few weeks later when an unexpected but familiar name stood out as she compiled a report on extradition fulfillments.

She frowned as she collected the report from the printer and headed into the office.

"Good, some back up." Garrett greeted her arrival, mid pace.

"Oookay…" Her eyebrows rose as she took in the exasperated look on the PC's face, matched by the frustration on Garrett's and Gormley's. Chief Kent was sitting in one of the visitor chairs, inscrutable as always.

"Tell her." Garrett gestured to the Chief, "She oversees the detail, _they_ should know."

Kent glanced to the PC who rolled his eyes but said nothing.

The Chief shifted in his chair and looked over his shoulder to her, "A group of midtown gang members made threatening gestures at an RMP."

"Threatening gestures?"

Kent nodded, "Mimed pointing guns. When the officers stepped out to confront the young men they had nothing on them but they made a comment along the lines of the officers didn't need to worry, they wouldn't waste their efforts on lowly patrolmen; the Kings had 'stars in their eyes'."

"Warrior Kings." Abbey exhaled. She hadn't forgotten the threat the Lieutenant had dug up over the winter and her eyes fixated on the Commissioner.

" _Stars_." The Commissioner repeated, "Do you see stars on my shoulders?"

"I see stars right there!" Garrett gestured to the Commissioner's uniform hanging in the corner. "And on the front page of the post whenever they run a story about this office and use your Chief of Department picture." He shook his head, "A gang banger would have no idea the PC doesn't wear shoulder stars on a regular basis."

"It's nonsense to get worked up over a couple of punks mouthing off." The Commissioner shook his head. "You're twisting yourself into a pretzel trying to interpret this as something more than nothing."

"You think it was a coincidence it happened the day after your interview with Anne Farrell aired?" Garrett volleyed.

"Which has nothing to do with anything!" The Commissioner barely refrained from shouting.

"With all due respect Sir," Sid stepped forward, "In the interview you did spend a good deal of time discussing the efforts of the gangs unit, including Brownsville which is one of the places the Kings recruit."

"Of course we talked about Brownsville. No way an interview with Farrell avoids the subject." The Commissioner shook his head, "This is all moot anyway. You already have Jimmy and McCarthy breathing down my neck every time I leave the building; Even if I conceded it could be a threat, what else do you expect to do?"

Garrett looked to Sid who took a breath and looked to Abbey for a beat, "How about a vest?"

"I wear a vest every day, Lieutenant." The Commissioner shot back.

"This isn't funny, Frank." Garrett rolled his eyes.

"It kind of is." Frank shrugged, "You know how long it's been since I've worn kevlar? You want me to dig one up for what? The off chance that some punk is serious and manages to get off a pot shot in the 20 seconds between the car and the door of wherever I'm going?"

"YES!" Garrett exasperated, "That's exactly what I'm concerned about."

Frank shook his head, "This is enough of this."

He looked to the man across from him, "Chief, thank you for reporting the incident, Lieutenant Gormley will put out an APB for our uniforms to exercise caution in areas the Kings are active." He glanced at Sid before returning his focus to the Chief, "Don, you and your team have been doing a great job, keep it up; full force."

"Yes, Sir." Don nodded with all of his gravitas. "Aggression unchallenged is aggression unleashed."

Frank blinked and frowned, "I don't know that one."

"Phaedrus, first century." Don elaborated as he stood from his chair, "The gang unit is focused on taming the aggression."

"Thank you." Frank nodded.

The Chief accepted the gesture as his dismissal and he turned to leave, a subtle nod to Abbey as he did, "Detective Baker."

She smiled at him, watching him go before returning her attention to the remaining occupants of the office.

Sid was still standing awkwardly to the side as Garrett and Frank locked glares.

"What did you have for me Detective?" The Commissioner asked without looking away from the DCPI.

She swallowed, "Just something in the extradition report."

He looked away from Garrett and frowned at her.

She stepped forward and handed over the papers.

"Don't you have something to be doing?" He tossed at Garrett as he pulled out his glasses.

Garrett looked back blankly.

Frank raised his eyebrows, "I didn't go 10 rounds with the mayor this winter for the pension increase to slip by without fanfare now that it finally came through."

Garrett shook his head, "Alright, alright, I'm on it." He put his hands up and headed for the door, followed by Sid.

"Can I just say this?" He stopped with the door open, looking back, "Did you know the head of the Warrior Kings is back at Riker's awaiting a new trial?"

"Good _bye,_ Garrett." Frank dismissed.

Abbey waited until the door was closed, "I'm sorry, Sir, it's not really important."

"I don't care if it's the TV Guide," He turned his attention to the papers she handed him, "I just wanted to be done with that conversation."

She would have smiled if it wasn't so troubling.

"So," He huffed, "What am I looking for here?"

She gestured to the bottom of the page, "Were you aware your father was involved in an arrest on behalf of an outstanding Florida warrant?"

"What?!" His brow knitted and he jumped to the paragraph she indicated.

"It was last month but we just received the return file from Florida and it included the original police report." She shifted her weight, "I know you like to be given a heads up when family is on a report, I have no idea how this didn't pop the first time through."

He didn't reply as he read and re-read the short summary.

"He had been seeing her socially…" He read aloud. He looked up to Abbey, "What does that mean?"

She blinked and tilted her head, "Um, well, Sir, I kind of assumed it meant they were…you know…dating."

"Dating." He repeated dumbly.

She bit her lip to keep from smirking, "That's how I read it, Sir."

" _Dating_." He said again, eyes returning to the paper. He grimaced. "My father was dating a woman?"

"I take it that's unusual?" She tilted her head.

"Well, I guess I don't know." Frank dropped the paper, "I didn't know about this one."

She smirked, "Does he know when _you_ date?"

Frank coughed into his fist, "Uh, well. I mean, I don't know."

"You two live together." She frowned.

"I am very much aware of that." He muttered looking back at the report.

He pulled off his glasses and dropped them on the desk, "It's not like there's been anything for him to notice lately."

She felt the heat of a blush begin to creep up her neck and she cleared her throat, seeking a diversion, "Well, at least you haven't dated a felon." She frowned, "I'm assuming."

He nodded, "Not that I know of…" He shook his head, "Damnit Pop…" He heaved a sigh.

"Alright, I need to decide what I'm going to do with this. Thank you." He tapped the paper on the desk.

She nodded.

"Oh…" He spoke up before she could move to leave, "How's our progress with Don's promotion?"

"Good." She smiled, "The new shield should be manufactured and delivered here by the end of next week."

"Excellent" He nodded, "I want to give it to him before Memorial Day. His family usually has a big cook out; he should be able to brag to them all."

"You should have all of next month to decide when to give it to him." She confirmed with a smile.

He nodded and returned his attention to the files on his desk.

Normally Abbey would accept the wordless action as dismissal but she hesitated. "Sir?"

"Hrm?" He looked up.

"You really don't have a Kevlar anymore?"

"Not you, too." He sighed.

She shook her head, "I'll leave for Detective Nucifero to make the call to argue whether you wear it or not, but it's something you should have."

He took a deep breath, "I honestly haven't had cause to wear one since I was a lieutenant." He made a face, "And you may not be surprised to hear I don't wear many of the same things as I did 20 years ago."

She smiled and looked down for a beat, "I understand." She looked up, "Can I order one for you? Just to have on hand? In case?"

He looked at her and exhaled, "If it would make you feel better, go ahead."

"Thank you." She nodded and ducked out of the office before he could tack on any qualifiers.

She made purposeful eye contact with Jim as she moved to her phone.

"Lieutenant Gormley briefed me." He assured from his desk.

"Good." She nodded and picked up the phone, "Hey Liam, I need to put in a requisition for a Kevlar…"


	61. Abashment

_SEASON 5 Finale! - This is the first of 3 chapters (I think...potentially 4 but I'm trying to keep it to 3) regarding the season 5 finale. This chapter takes place within "New Rules" in the evening of the first day._

* * *

 _*bzz*_

' _PC heading back 2 HQ'_

Abbey frowned at Nucifero's text, eyes jumping up to the clock before she replied.

 _'Something happen?'_

 _'Dnt think so. Jst wants 2 keep working.'_

She sighed.

"Don't tell me you're heading back." Brian was watching her from across the table, "You _just_ got home."

"No, I'm staying for now." She put the phone down next to her plate, "The Commissioner is heading back to the office but it seems like he's just trying to keep himself occupied."

Brian nodded, "I take it he was close with the cop who got shot?"

She swallowed her flinch at hearing Assistant Chief Donald Kent being referred to as 'the cop who got shot.'

"They were friends." She confirmed, "The chief's wife had been very close with the Commissioner's wife when they were coming up through the ranks. The kids all knew one another; that sort of thing." She chewed on the inside of her lip, "But even without all that, Chief Kent was one of those guys who was impossible not to like. He was just this constant positive force and the thought that he's gone…it's still hard to grasp."

Brian paused from putting more green beans on Michael's tray and looked at her with a tilt, "Were _you_ close to him?"

She tried to shrug off the question, "Closer than some."

She swallowed, "He was around a lot more than some of the other chiefs." She looked over her shoulder to the living room, gesturing to the well-loved copy of The Poky Little Puppy that was hanging out of the toy-bin, "He's the one who gave us the collection of The Little Golden Books at the gathering they had for me at work before Michael was born." She blinked rapidly, caught off guard by the wave of emotion hitting her, "He was just a really, really good guy."

"Abs…" Brian came around the table and enveloped her in the hug she hadn't realized she had been desperately needing since that moment in the hall when, even at 50 yards out, she was able tell the gravity of what happened by the looks on Garrett and Sid's faces.

Cops dying in the line of duty was not something new, it wasn't even new for it to be someone she knew well, but an entirely strange feeling struck her when Sid finally articulated what had happened.

After an unusual period of disbelief, the Commissioner headed to the garage, not accepting any alternative but to go the scene himself. He asked if she wanted to accompany them but there was a visceral check in her gut that forced her to decline. She had covered by saying she would take care of clearing the Commissioner's schedule and 10-2ing Thomas Kent, but the truth was she just didn't think she could handle the reality of seeing Chief Kent and his wife, gunned down in the middle of a beautiful day.

She almost regretted the choice, wondering if the PC had seen through her flimsy excuse. But when he had returned to the office, ashen faced and stilted, she knew he wasn't wasting time considering her motives.

She had seen Frank Reagan on the verge of tears before, but it had always been in private. The tense, visible emotion in his eyes and in his voice during the press conference was something altogether new and jarring.

She had carried on for the remainder of the day, only to be rocked again when the report came in that all signs pointed to the murders being hits by the Warrior Kings. The gang had followed through on their threats as feared, but not as expected.

The day had started as one of the rare lighthearted mornings; complete with a visit from Don Kent himself. But by the time the PC packed up and departed for home only a few hours later than usual Abbey was breathing a long sigh of relief and hurrying out of the building as fast as she could. She had been eager to escape the day and her self-imposed shame; shame of not having the strength to go to the scene, shame of having incorrectly interpreted the threats, and shame of being grateful that it wasn't someone closer to her.

But in the quiet of their dining room, with no professional expectations, fear of judgement, or of gendered stereotypes, she let the tears fall into the crook of Brian's neck as he held her.

"Hon…" He soothed, "I'm sorry I didn't know how upset you were…"

"No way you could have known." She pulled back, wiping at her eyes.

"Mumma! Why you crying? Mumma!" Michael was watching with deep concern.

"It's okay." She offered him a weak smile, "I'm a little sad because of friend of mine left very suddenly and I'm going to miss him."

"He won't come back?" Michael tilted his head.

She shook her head, "No baby, he won't come back."

Michael's face scrunched in deep thought, "That's sad. It's okay you're crying." He pronounced with all the authority an almost-3 year old could muster.

"Thank you, Baby." She pulled further from Brian and dropped a kiss to her son's forehead.

He turned his face up to her, patting her face, "Better, Mumma?"

Her smile was more genuine. "Better."

* * *

Only it wasn't better. Hours later she lay in bed staring up at the ceiling trying not to look at the clock or think about the day behind and the day ahead.

She had indulged in Brian's comfort and embrace until he had fallen asleep and rolled to his natural position facing the wall. She turned to look at his back. She knew that in his unconscious state he didn't intend it to be the alienating gesture it felt like.

She blinked and wondered what Thomas Kent was doing right now; he had worked in Joe Reagan's squad and was a regular figure at department social gatherings; back when they were more regular events on the Commissioner's calendar.

She wondered what would have happened had Chief Kent retired when he intended to back in the fall. For a brief moment she pictured him spending his days joining Maggie where she volunteered at the City library giving tours to school children and tourists.

She sighed into the darkness, it probably didn't matter. At that point, the event that had set everything in motion, the conviction of Clinton Wallace, had occurred. The threats had been made and either the Chief would have been targeted as a private citizen or whomever took over for him would have been hit instead.

She pushed at the bridge of her nose and sharply exhaled. The threats, the damn threats.

She couldn't get over how myopic they had been. Of course it made sense _now._ The Chief was hands on; every Warrior King convicted in the 5 boroughs would have seen the Chief and his dignified authority either through the window during an interrogation, in the back of the courtroom during a hearing, or across the table during a plea negotiation.

Don Kent was always trying to flip gang members to testify on one another. They would have had a first-hand seat to the deference and respect that Kent's men had for him. Of course they would have pegged him as the man in charge, the one they needed to take down to even the score.

The Commissioner had been right all along but none of them, even Kent himself, had considered the correct alternative.

With a final, exasperated huff, she dropped her hand from her face and sat up in bed. Making sure she didn't disturb Brian, she swung her feet off the edge and grabbed her phone and bathrobe as she slid out the door.

She wasn't even sure who she wanted to talk to, she just knew she couldn't be alone with her thoughts anymore.

She thumbed through her contacts.

Jim never sent a final notice that the PC was in for the night but it must have been late and he didn't want to disturb her. He was going to have a long few days and she wasn't about to interrupt the little sleep he might manage.

She hovered over Anita's name and sighed. Anita was a good friend, and as a cop she would understand more than most, but this was one time when the divide between the Lieutenant's uptown precinct and Abbey's 1PP desk seemed too wide to traverse. There was only so much Anita would understand and only so much Abbey would be able to tell her.

Garrett…Garrett was an option but she didn't click on him right away. It wouldn't be the first time they commiserated over a difficult incident but she knew the DCPI was still busy spinning the events and balancing the coverage and thinking strategically about every way everyone reacted and what was and was not publicly known. She didn't want to end up discussing public perception. Not tonight.

Gormley. She frowned at the name directly under Garrett's. She and the Lieutenant got along but they had never been through something like this with one another. They were amicable colleagues, not friends, even in the loosest of terms that she might apply to Garrett. Still, the longer she stared at his name the more appealing the option became. He knew all she knew, including the intangible feelings from around the office...but how would he react if she suddenly reached out at…she winced at the clock…0300?

Clenching her molars, she opened a message to the Lieutenant, " _Nothing important – just checking in_."

Almost immediately her phone dinged a reply, _"Im available – cant sleep. Whats up?"_

She exhaled in relief, _"Can't sleep either."_

A moment later her phone buzzed in her hand, the Lieutenant's name flashing on the incoming call. She picked up and moved to the far side of the kitchen, away from the stairs leading to the bedrooms.

"I didn't mean to disturb you." She answered.

 _"You didn't._ " Sid assured, _"I told you I wasn't sleeping."_

"I wouldn't be surprised if there was a lot of that going on tonight." She leaned her elbows on the counter.

 _"No kidding."_ He returned.

She sighed. She had wanted someone to talk to, to get out of her head, but now he was on the phone she didn't know what to say.

 _"You looking to escape your thoughts?"_ He offered without her having to explain the silence.

She smiled in relief, "You have something in mind?"

 _"Someone needs to clean out the office where the Chief set up shop in the Bronx."_ He explained, _"Seemed disrespectful to do it during the day but there may be time sensitive stuff on his desk. I figured if I'm not sleeping I might as well head up there now in the middle of a midnight tour when there's no audience."_ He paused, _"Want to join me?"_

She glanced at the clock and then up the stairs before nodding to no one. "I can meet you at the 1PP parking garage in 45 minutes?"

* * *

"I'm glad you called." Sid admitted from the driver's seat, "I wasn't looking forward to doing this alone."

She nodded, "It sucks; but it's better than stewing in my own thoughts and counting down until the alarm goes off."

"I get that." Sid snorted, pulling into a spot in the back of the Bronx Borough HQ.

They climbed up the rusted steps of the rear staircase and entered the administrative floor.

"Chief." Sid nodded to Pat Garuti, the Borough Chief.

"Sid." Pat held out a hand, "Thanks for waiting to do this."

"I hate it has to be done at all." The Lieutenant conceded. He gestured to Abbey, "You know Detective Baker?"

"Of course." Pat nodded, "Nice to see you again, Abbey. It means a lot that you're here."

"We're all just looking for ways to contribute, Sir." She acknowledged, tight lipped.

"Well, it's right this way."

He led the way to an office at the corner of the hall. Abbey took note of the handful of uniforms and detectives milling around the open cubicles, not bothering to hide their wary attention.

"I skimmed through his desk after tour rolled out a few hours ago." Pat waited in the doorframe as Abbey and Sid entered the small office. "The stack on the left is stuff I think we need to hold on to here if you're okay with that."

"Thanks." Sid nodded, "Baker, you want to look through the bookcase and the stuff on the wall while I take care of the desk?"

She nodded and wordlessly approached the bookshelf, her fingers hesitating over the worn volumes.

In addition to the standard, department provided, legal tomes there were dog eared copies of books ranging from psychology and criminology to eastern philosophy.

The Chief gave a subtle cough and she turned to see him holding out an empty carton.

"Maybe you can use this for anything that should go to Thomas or Reagan?"

The empty box seemed cavernous and she accepted it, stiffly.

She turned back to the shelves and began removing items with caution, as if Chief Kent could walk in at any moment, catching her going through his things.

In addition to the books, there were some binders and framed plaques from his work around the country. Fighting the largest gangs required coordination with departments from the rest of the nation's cities and Don Kent went full in on any tool he could get his hands on. As a result, there were commendations and program summations from Boston and Atlanta, Houston and L, and even DC and some federal agencies.

Finally, she picked up the last two items that had been hanging on the wall; a framed picture of Don and Maggie standing proudly alongside Thomas on the day of his most recent promotion, and a smaller picture of the Chief with the Commissioner, taken that same day.

It had all the trappings of a formal photo; taken at 1PP, the PC in his suit and the Chief in full uniform with his hat under his arm. The only indicator that it was something more, was the fact that they were both smiling which was something the Commissioner didn't do often - but Frank Reagan did. This wasn't the same kind of awkward 'Look at me with the Top Cop' kind of picture that some brass had in their office; this was a picture of old friends enjoying a moment in time.

"You done?" Sid asked from the far side of the desk, breaking her attention.

She put the pictures into the box, surprised at how empty it still seemed, "I think so."

Sid glanced to the carton and nodded, holding up a thick folder, "Me too."

Abbey sighed and placed a lid on the carton, following Sid as he led the way out of the office.

"So that's it?"

She looked up sharply to see a Sergeant and three uniformed officers standing between them and the squad room door.

The Sergeant glared at the box in her hands and spoke again, "One of the greatest cops this department has ever seen and you come in here, in the dead of night, and reduce him to a single box?"

Abbey swallowed.

"Hey, hey, hey." Sid held up his hands, "No one is looking to diminish Chief Kent."

"Certainly not honoring him." Spat one of the uniforms.

"Look," Sid looked between the 4 opposing officers, "It's been a long, hard day for everyone. I promise Chief Kent is going to receive all of the respect and honor this department has to share; but for now, the work needs to be done."

"Some respect." Remarked another of the uniforms, "When 1PP hamstrings the guys trying to catch the man's murderer."

Abbey furrowed her brow and looked to Sid who glanced back to her before he turned back to the men. "What r' you goin' on about?"

"1 PP and the DA's office." The sergeant spoke up. "The 5-4 squad pulled in a 'banger with a history of going after cops." He gestured pointedly, "Mario Hunt was in the park, in a car matching the description, just moments before the Chief was shot."

"So that's good!" Sid gestured, "What are you upset about?"

" _They let him go_." Ground out the second uniform, leaning forward until he was held back by his partner. "The DA wouldn't let them hold him and the Commissioner sided with the suits on Centre St instead of his own son and the rest of the department. The cop killer is back on the street because they're too worried about _perception_ and saving face for mayor's damn campaign instead of caring about making sure justice gets done."

Abbey clenched her jaw, forcing her reaction blank and watching the back of Sid's neck tighten.

The Lieutenant took a measured breath and looked over the 4 men between them and the door. "I can't speak to the what and why and whozits that went down between Detective Reagan, the perp and the DA...but I can tell you the position of 1 PP is to do what we can to honor Don Kent by making sure that _when_ we bring charges - that they stick; for good." He looked at each of them, "Because we _will_ bring charges and the low lives behind this are going to jail for the rest of their lives."

She blinked, impressed by Sid's quick and diplomatic response in defense of the PC even though she suspected that his gut reaction was more in line with the other cops' confusion and outrage.

"Well, you better hope that's what happens." The Sergeant spoke again, "Because Don Kent deserves more than his name written on a box."


	62. Paladin

_A/N - Chapter 2 of 3 regarding the Season 5 finale. One of my favorite moments in the whole series happens in New Rules when Henry asks Frank if he's alright and Frank admits he isn't...in someways this chapter is the follow up to chapter 58, Legacy._

 _This takes place during New Rules, immediately following when Frank yells at Sid about going after Hunt and then storms into his private office._

* * *

The slamming of the door to the Commissioner's private office would have caused Abbey to jump had she not been expecting it. She locked eyes with Sid who remained on the opposite side of the table.

"That didn't go well." He winced.

She rolled her eyes at his understatement and restacked the files she had prepared for the meeting that apparently was no longer happening.

Sid didn't move and she stepped around him and back to the outer office.

"What did you expect?" She asked when they were away from ear-shot of the door.

Sid put up his hands, "I'm just frustrated."

Abbey dropped the files on to her desk, "So is everyone; as well as sleep deprived." She tilted her head in the direction of Jim's desk, "While you and I were in the Bronx and eating at that crappy diner this morning, the PC was here; apparently fighting with the lead detective on the case and stewing." She rubbed her eyes, "Which means that we all had a crappy night with no sleep."

"I know that." The Lieutenant mumbled.

She sighed, "I know you do."

Sid held up his hand, "You're right. I shouldn't have mouthed off and I know it wasn't really him talking. I'm starting to realize that sometimes his frustration gets the better of him."

"Just like _anyone_." Abbey smirked.

"Imagine that." Sid agreed with a shrug, "The Reagans are human after all."

Abbey's snicker faded as she turned to the coffee station behind her desk only to find it empty.

"Ugh." She groaned. "Okay, I need to get more if I'm to survive to the end of the day."

"Good luck with that." Sid nodded, "It's in short supply around here today." He gestured to the full mugs in the hands of every staffer in the back end of the office.

She acknowledged his observation with a huff and he smiled before thumbing in the direction of the elevator, "I'm going to see what I can do to help the guys turn up Hunt."

She waived him off and gave one last glance to the Commissioner's closed door before she left the office and made her way to the kitchenette to rustle up some coffee.

* * *

"Aren't you supposed to be in a meeting with Frank right now?" Garrett came up behind her as she took her first sip of the delightfully caffeinated brew from the 10th floor's coffee maker.

"I am." She confirmed, "But he heard about Mario Hunt being missing on his way up from your office and now, apparently, our meeting is no longer part of the afternoon's agenda."

He made a face, "I'm glad I wasn't there for _that._ "

"You should be." She agreed.

Garrett dropped his used mug into the sink before turning her way, a funny look on his face, "You realize that it's May again."

"Yes..." She replied automatically, "What's that have to do with anything?"

"It's May." Garrett replied with meaning. "All the bad stuff happens in May."

She shook her head and started for the door, "Don't say that; my son was born in May."

"Alright," He conceded with an upheld hand, coming up alongside and walking with her, "Not everything in May is bad, but it's certainly not unheard of for bad things to happen."

"Care to clarify?" She followed along with him as he took the stairs in the direction of his office.

"What was it? 2 years ago that the Mayor was shot and Officer Cruz killed in the middle of May…" Garrett started counting off on his fingers, "Last year Detective Tomlin was killed in May and then Dino had to resign that same month. It was May the time the mob put out a hit on Jamie, it was May when that whole crap with Sonny Malevsky went down. It was May when there was that school shooting back in '07, _and,_ I don't need to remind you when Joe Reagan was killed."

"No; no you don't." She rebuked.

He shrugged as they turned into his office, "So, I'm just saying."

"Just saying what?" Henry Reagan looked up from where he had been studying a picture on the shelf in Garrett's office.

Garrett stopped so suddenly the Abbey nearly ran into him and she looked to the floor with frustration as her coffee sloshed out of the side of her mug.

"…Just saying that May has seen some unfortunate events…." Garrett stuttered out, apparently too surprised for anything else.

"Yeah…" Henry's mouth tightened in a thoughtful frown, "That's true in many ways." He paused for a beat before holding up the frame he had been looking at, "Why do you have a framed picture of yourself?"

Garrett's shoulders began to relax as he recovered from his initial surprise and he stepped around the mess in his office to grab the picture from Henry's hands, "It's _not_ me. It's my brother." He grumbled, returning the picture to the shelf, "He thought it would be funny for me to have it in my office and he guilt tripped me into not getting rid of it."

Abbey couldn't help but smile at the ridiculousness of his reasoning while pinching her brow in confusion, "Your _brother_?" She blinked, "You have a twin?"

"I never mentioned?" He looked at her blankly.

She shook her head slowly, her grin growing, "No, I don't believe you did."

Garret shrugged and muttered something under his breath before centering himself and leveling a stern look at the former Commissioner, "What are you doing here, Henry? It's not a good day for nonsense."

The amiable expression on the older man's face fell away and he pulled back his shoulders, "What do you mean, nonsense?"

"I mean," Garrett moved to stand squarely behind his desk, "That on the best days you can throw a wrench in the works and sometimes maybe it's okay, expected even, given the unique situation between you and Frank," He shook his head, "But not today, Henry. Today everything is too on edge for whatever contribution to the daily chaos you'd like to make."

"I'm not here to make any trouble for Frank." Henry leaned forward, an angry frown on his face, "I'm here because I'm concerned."

"Yeah, well, I can bet what your concern is about and I can also assure you that your grandson and half of the department have already given him an earful!" Garrett didn't maintain eye contact as he searched through the piles of files on his desk.

"What are you talking about?" Henry relaxed back, genuinely confused.

"Danny agrees with you; thinks that when a cop gets killed it should be no holds barred – lock up anyone who looks like they may have a whiff of suspicious activity and hand out the wood shampoos until we've beaten a confession out of someone." He waived a hand in the air as he talked.

Finding the folder he had been digging for, Garrett looked up and gave Henry his full attention, "But _that's_ _not Frank._ Like it or not, your son doesn't do things the way you did. And thank God for that. He cares about making sure the right things are done right and because of that, when they _do_ pull in the killer, it'll be a closed case. So please, don't think you're going to come in here and pressure him to act against his instincts. It's not the 1970s and Frank doesn't operate like you do. I'm not about to sit by and watch you make him feel bad about doing the right thing. Not on this case."

Henry stared back at Garrett for a long, silent moment. The only movement came from the slight pressure he put on the inside of his lip and the tightening of his eyes as he narrowed them in Garrett's direction.

He leaned in, and in a voice so dangerously low it was a practical whisper, he bit out, " _You_ , don't know, _anything._ "

Garrett swallowed but maintained his ground. "I know enough." He attempted to return Henry's stare. "You don't care an ounce about what you put Frank through each time you shoot off your mouth or confound the efforts he's making to move this department out of the _bad ol'days_."

"Don't care?!" Henry's eyebrows arched, "It wouldn't be possible for me to care _more_. He is my _son_ \- and is the most important thing in my life; he's all I have left."

His final words were low and tight but the commanding tone and raw, unscripted emotion stilled the room.

Abbey stood, riveted, as Garrett blinked, swallowed, cleared his throat, and blinked again. He let out a subtle, breath before shaking his head and squaring his shoulders with faux confidence.

"Okay. Sure. Whatever." He rolled his eyes, "I have a meeting with Marsha over at the Mayor's Office of Public Affairs. Stay here if you'd like; just _don't_ go up to the 14th floor." He warned as he stepped around his desk and brushed past Abbey on his way out the door.

She watched him stalk down the hall before she turned back to face the seething Reagan in the office.

"He's tired." She attempted to excuse Garrett's behavior. "It's been a rough couple of days for everyone."

"He doesn't need you explaining for him." Henry brushed her off, sinking into the office's sole clean visitor chair.

Abbey bit down on the inside of her cheek, looking the older man over.

As typical, his dark reading glasses were poking out from the breast pocket of his green shirt. What was _not_ typical was the misbuttoned button on that shirt and the slight appearance of unshaved stubble on his chin.

She frowned and stepped fully into the office, closing the door behind her and coming to stand in front of him, "You said you were concerned?"

Henry rubbed at the bridge of his nose, "I did." He exhaled, "I am."

Her frown deepened and she stepped around him, "About?" She began clearing the files and take-out boxes off of the other visitor chair.

"Francis." Henry replied, "What else?"

She took a steadying breath before turning back to him and sitting in the now empty chair. Eye to eye she could see that the staff of 1PP weren't the only ones who were tired; the older man's eyes were rimmed red and bagged.

"Because of Chief Kent?" She asked.

Henry nodded, "It may be more than this one thing but it's certainly been the final straw." He shook his head, "He never came back last night. I should be grateful; when something keeps him up he makes such a racket around the house there's no getting any sleep. But last night I slept even less because I was up all-night waiting to hear the door."

She tilted her head, touched by the admission. "It was a tough night to be alone with your thoughts and have nothing to do." She empathized, "I'm pretty sure I disturbed much of my husband's sleep."

Henry flashed half a smile before shaking his head, "I can understand that. But it's not really the issue." He frowned, "Francis and I talked briefly when he stopped at home. I didn't like what I heard."

She blinked, her heart speeding up, "What did he say?"

"No specifics you need to worry about." He comforted with a pat to her knee, "But it's why I'm here and not upstairs, I'm not looking to confront anyone, I'm looking to recruit some help."

"For what?" Abbey straightened. _Help_ was something she could do. _Help_ was something productive. _Help_ was the most appealing offer during days like these.

"Just keeping Francis afloat." He sighed, looking down, "This one…this has hit hard."

He brought his eyes back up and offered a smile, "On his best days my son can be bullheaded to the point of forgetting to eat or sleep." He shrugged, "Despite the history between him and I, Garrett has been a friend to Frank; I was hoping he could help keep him from falling off the deep end while he's here at work; Where it's hard for him to remember he doesn't need to carry the whole world on his own."

Abbey took a slow breath and nodded, "I'll talk to Garrett when he gets back. He and the Commissioner usually eat together in the office at least once a week; it won't be out of place for him to make sure the PC takes a few breaks these next few days."

"Thank you." Henry nod stiltedly, eyes averted, "That's all I was looking for."

"Sir…" She tightened her mouth, "Garrett…He's just quick to defend by going on the offensive."

"I really don't…" He rolled his eyes.

"But you know he cares." She interrupted, "I'm sure he thought he was looking out for the Commissioner. It's just we're just all a little more on edge than normal. It's bad enough when a cop goes down, but a Chief? And someone as well liked as Chief Kent? It's even worse knowing we had the threats in hand and dropped the ball. It's making everyone feel responsible so I think the tendency is to close ranks and pull up the drawbridges if you know what I mean."

Henry's forehead wrinkled and he lifted his chin, "Threats?"

Her mouth opened to a small 'o'. "I'm sorry, I assumed the Commissioner would have told you."

He shook his head, "He didn't."

She nodded and Henry shifted forward in the chair, "What threats?"

"There were two threats." She admitted, looking down, as if she were confessing to a parent, "One in the fall and one a couple months back. From the Warrior Kings." She pulled her eyes up to meet Henry's, "We took them seriously but we read them wrong. Up until yesterday we thought they were targeting the Commissioner."

Henry's face slacked and he stared back at her, the muscle in his jaw tensing. "And Francis knew?"

She nodded, "He was the only one who disagreed with us."

Henry's eyes flicked away and he pursed his lips, exhaling through his nose. "Lord forgive me for being grateful that you were wrong."

Abbey felt the corner of her lips pull up, "Being grateful that your son wasn't targeted by a gang doesn't seem to be something you need forgiveness for."

"Catholic." Henry smirked, "Always best to play it safe and ask for forgiveness."

She smiled back and they shared a quiet moment, his grin sliding away. "I feel bad for Thomas Kent, I really do. It's not easy to lose your parents and it must be even worse to have them taken for you in such a way…" He tapped the side of his leg, "But children are supposed to outlive their parents, not the other way around." He shook his head, "I refuse to go through that again."

Abbey nodded, letting his words wash over her but refusing to focus too deeply on their meaning; she was too fragile to be thinking of her parents or of Michael in that context. Instead she looked at him sympathetically, "Garrett and I were just thinking of Joe a few minutes ago."

"Joe?" He tilted his head and furrowed his brow.

She blinked, "Yes...Joe. Your grandson…wasn't that who you just…?"

"Oh…" He breathed and leaned back in his chair, a slight wince to his expression. "Right. Yeah."

"Sir?"

She liked Henry. They had shared a few introspective conversations over the years, but she never pried. She was didn't want her curiosity to lead her over the uncertain line, but there was something simmering and he seemed voluble, as if seeking a balm for the harsh words exchanged with Garrett.

He looked at her for a long moment, his eyes softening. "Joe was hard for all of us. But even losing a grandson doesn't seem to measure up to losing a child." He looked away, "Though you'd think it would."

"You lost someone else." She said with measured care; it wasn't a question; the truth was plain on the older man's tired face.

"Francis' older brother." Henry replied slowly, carefully, as if the words were unfamiliar.

"Peter." He paused on the name, eyes unfocused and reflective before he snapped them back up to meet Abbey's attention, "Leukemia. He was just 18 months old. It was before Francis was even born, but it still…"

She had to remind herself to breath. 18 months. A child not much younger than Michael. Leukemia, so senseless, must have left Henry feeling powerless; certainly not something any cop could handle well, never mind the man sitting in front of her.

She blinked. Suddenly recalling another time Henry had been sitting across from her, talking about the past…

"You've mentioned him before." She said before she could consider the words.

"I did?" Henry seemed as surprised as her by the observation.

She nodded, the memory becoming more clear, "After the Commissioner was shot, and I was working out of your dining room a few years ago." She bit her lip, "You mentioned having been close to a baby who had died of leukemia which is why you would get so concerned each time the Commissioner was sick as an infant."

Henry snorted, "Not just as an infant." He shook his head, "He had a nose bleed one of those dry winter days last January and it took all my rationale to not suggest he get a blood test."

Abbey blinked. She couldn't imagine the stress brought on by six decades of that kind of constant concern.

"We hadn't had the chance to talk about it…to really measure up what we had been through and where we wanted to go before we found out Betty was pregnant again." Henry's eyes were focused on a random spot on the floor as he walked his mind through the past, answering unasked questions aloud.

"I'd never call it an accident but it wasn't planned." He continued, "Had we had the chance to think about it, act deliberately…" His face contorted in pained contemplation, "I don't know if I would have had the strength to choose having another child and having to face the potential of losing him."

She blinked, momentarily compelled by the thought of how life would have been different had Henry and Betty Reagan had the opportunity to decide not to have another child all those years ago…

Henry didn't notice her distraction, he was leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, hands grasped in front of him, "I spent the first 2 years of Frank's life waiting for the other shoe to drop." He looked down, "I didn't even go to the hospital the day he was born. I didn't want to celebrate too early, be too happy, get too close…only to have to go through the pain of the loss all over again."

He looked up ruefully, "The irony is, that was the first time I caught the attention of the brass." He shook his head, "I may have been destined for a career on patrol but my Captain was real impressed that I worked my full double tour the day my son was born. Called me dedicated and reliable and started asking me to help on special duties."

Abbey bounced her eyebrows, "I guess it's like they say, you never know how things are meant to work out."

"Mhrm." Henry shrugged, "I guess."

She tilted her head, "But you're close to the Commissioner now. To hear him tell it, that's nothing new. How'd you get over your fears?"

Henry frowned, focused in thought. He looked to her, "You're a mother now, right?"

"Michael will be 3 next week." She confirmed with a slow nodded.

A small smile pushed at the side of Henry's mouth and he gestured, "How long did it take you to fall hopelessly in love with your son?"

Abbey smirked at the ridiculousness of the question, "The moment they put him in my arms."

Henry smiled and looked away, nodding, "Me too."

She smiled back at him.

"I tried not to." He admitted, the smile ghosting from his face, "I really did. For a long time I pretended to not care in hopes that maybe I wouldn't and it would hurt less if something happened…Bless my wife for seeing through me and giving me space. She knew before I did that it was a lost cause and she let me figure that out in my own time." His lips rolled and the memories played across his face in pinched fondness, "The fear never went away, but eventually, I was able to be grateful for the second chance."

"Have you seen…" The door opened without a knock, revealing the man in question, "...Ba...ker?" His eyes flicked to the other occupant of the office and widened in surprise before narrowing in suspicion, "Pop?"

He scanned the room, presumably looking for the office's regular occupant, before he looked between the two again, "What's going on?"

"Nothing, Francis." Henry stood, "Abagail here was just saving me from dealing with your DCPI."

Frank sighed, "What now?"

"Don't worry about it." Henry assured, "You have enough on your plate."

"Mhrm." He accepted, warily looking to Baker for specifics. She maintained a blank façade; there was no way he'd get from her the personal nature of the conversation she had just had with his father.

"When you coming home?" Henry stood toe to toe with his son.

Frank winced, "I don't know." He put his hands in his pockets "We've hit a major snag in the case."

"Which the detectives and boots on the street will be dealing with." Henry pointed out, "No reason you can't get a couple hours of sleep."

"We'll see, Pop." Frank attempted to placate his father, unconvincingly.

Henry tilted his head, "What do you think you're going to be able to do here?"

Frank rolled his eyes, and pulled up his shoulders, "My job Pop. Just trying to keep everything from jumping off the rails."

"Meaning?" Henry questioned.

"Meaning…" Frank returned with a heaved sigh, "That I seem to be the only one in this department who cares about building a case that ensures a conviction."

"Trying to make Danny do it the 'Don Kent' way?" Henry surmised.

"Yeah." Frank exhaled, "But everyone from our campaigning mayor to my grieving son seems to be against me." He gestured with an open palm.

"Ignore them." Henry shook his head and shifted in the direction of the door, "They'll come around eventually and appreciate what you're pushing for."

"I hope so." Frank confessed, looking down.

Henry exhaled and took a long look over the man standing in front of him. He pursed his lips then smiled, "Keep it up; Don would be proud of what you're doing." He paused, and gave a single dip of his chin, "Just like I am."

Frank's eyes shot up to meet his father's but Henry had turned on a dime and was already walking away.

Frank watched after him, not moving until the older man turned the corner and disappeared from sight.

The Commissioner huffed out a short breath and looked back into the office, eyes not quite meeting Abbey's.

She tried to keep the knowledge of what she had just observed out of her expression as she headed for the door.

"I'll be at my desk whenever you're ready to meet about those numbers." She offered benignly.

He nodded but didn't follow her when she left Garrett's cramped office. As she turned for the stairs she could see out of the corner of her eye that Commissioner still hadn't moved; hands buried in his pockets, eyes unfocused in the general direction his father had stood.


	63. Solicitude

_A/N - Last chapter in the season 5 finale trilogy. This takes place during and after The Art of War._

* * *

"BAKER!"

Her fork hovered in mid-air and her head shot up. She glanced to Jim who stared back with equal surprise. The Commissioner almost never shouted through the closed doors and it certainly wasn't something she had been expecting.

Henry Reagan had been right, the work to be done on the Kent case was in the hands of the detectives and officers on the street; the long hours at 1PP were mostly about being available for support and providing an outlet for those feeling helpless to pretend to be productive.

After the Kent's funeral on Sunday, most of the rest of 1PP staff had begun to settle back into the standard routine; there was still the pressure of finding the murderer but some of the tension had ebbed away. Thus, the unexpected shout, coupled with Gormley's previous sprint through the office, re-ignited the dread in her gut and she dropped her dinner, grabbed her notebook and entered the office.

Sid was standing in the center of the room, still catching his breath and Garrett was sitting in the far visitor chair, both men's eyes riveted to the PC who held a cell phone to his ear.

"Damnit Danny, pick up." He muttered a beat before slamming the device to the desk.

He looked at Abbey, "Get St. Victor's, now." He snapped, picking up the cell again and dialing a new number.

Without hesitation, she moved to the extension by the couch and picked up the phone, hating that she had the hospital line memorized. "Which department?"

"Emergency." Garrett replied for the PC.

"No." Sid shook his head, "They took her directly to surgery."

Abbey's brow furrowed in his direction but he didn't notice, turning back to the Commissioner.

"Erin…" Frank was saying into his cell, "Are you…?"

He cut himself off and pulled the phone away from his ear to glance at the screen. "Sorry Honey, I have to go. Call you back." He pushed a button, and leaned forward, his elbow braced on the desk as he answered, "Jamie? Where are you right now?"

Abbey tensed her jaw as the Hospital's automated system took her through the menus to the right extension.

Sid had said " _Her_ " so something had happened to a woman, and it was obviously a family member; the Commissioner's behavior made that much clear.

It wasn't Erin, he had just spoken to her, and given his brusque departure from that call it couldn't have been Nicky either.

Linda. It had to be Linda. That's why he had been trying to call Danny when she walked in…and why Sid still looked so pale, he also knew her well.

" _Pre-op nurses station_." An impatient voice finally came over the line.

"Hi. This is Detective Baker of the NYPD; I'm trying to get information on a patient; Linda Reagan."

Both Sid and Garrett looked at her with arched eyebrows. She ignored them, listening to the nurse try to explain why she couldn't tell her anything.

"Ma'am." She interrupted, "I'm calling on behalf of the Police Commissioner. He's Linda's father-in-law. I just need to know who is performing the surgery and if you could give me a gauge of how serious it is."

The nurse acquiesced and began to deliver the requested information. Abbey listened intently, trying not to let her shock show. She kept her expression even as she noticed the Commissioner looking at her too.

"Hold on, Jamie. Baker's on the phone with someone there now." He was saying into his phone, his eyes laser focused on her.

"Thank you." Abbey gave the nurse her appreciation before hanging up. She took a deep breath and forced herself to meet the worried eyes of the PC.

"Linda has two gunshot wounds on her lower right side. They think one is a ricochet and is relatively superficial. Dr. Reggie Carter is performing a laparoscopy to determine the location and damage of the 2nd bullet. Right now they don't have a prognosis but her stats were strong going in to the OR and blood loss was minimal so they're hopeful."

The Commissioner's eyes traced back and forth across her face after she finished speaking. When he exhaled it was with a slight tremor and he looked down, speaking back into the phone, "Jamie, you hear that?" He nodded, "Yeah. Hopeful." He listened a few more moments, "Okay, I'm going to get down there when I can but you stick with your brother, got it?" He waited a beat, "I'll take care of it. You just be there for Danny and I'll see you both soon."

With deliberate movements he lowered the phone to the desk, rubbing at his brow with his other hand.

"Frank…" Garrett started, only to be stopped by the Commissioner holding up his hand in a quiet plea.

Garrett sat back and glanced to her and Sid. The three of them each caught one another's eyes before the Commissioner took an audible breath, drawing their attention.

"Sid," He spoke stiffly, eyes skittering around his desk as if he were uncertain of his surroundings. "I need…" He exhaled and rolled his lips, "Chief of D's and the CO of whomever it was we had supposedly detailing that room. Get them to this office… _now_."

"Sir." Sid nodded, turning on his heel and leaving.

Garrett stood, "I'll just…"

"Right." Frank gestured, "And take care of the Mayor's office too? I don't want to hear from him."

"Don't worry about it, I'll get it, Boss." Garrett nodded, gathering his unopened dinner and heading to the door.

"Garrett?"

The DCPI paused, looking back and Frank grimaced, "Thanks."

Garrett dipped his head, "I'm real sorry, Frank."

The Commissioner nodded and looked back to his desk, not moving until the door closed. He inhaled and rubbed a hand down his face.

"Sir?" Abbey worried her lip, waiting.

He exhaled and nodded, not looking up at her, "Can you call the 12th? Let them know that Officer Reagan won't be returning to tour?"

"Of course." She hesitated, "Anything else I can do for you?"

"Turn back the last 5 days?" He looked up with a ghost of a defeated smile.

She looked down, "Sorry, Sir. I would if I could."

His eyebrows bounced and his smile tightened, "I know you would, Abigail."

She blinked at the sound of her name and her posture softened.

In contrast, the Commissioner straightened in his chair, clearing his throat and shaking off his visible worry, "I need to call Erin and my father before Sid gets back." He squared his shoulders and picked up his phone.

Abbey nodded, "I'll call Officer Reagan's CO."

"Eh, Baker?"

She turned around to see him holding up his blackberry, a large crack down the center of the screen, "Could you also put in a requisition for a phone repair?"

* * *

"Detective Baker?" Abbey looked over her shoulder for the source of the unexpected voice. "Jamie." Her smile was tight, "How's Linda?"

"Uh, getting better they say." He nodded, His hands stuffed in the front pockets of his jeans, "I, uh, came to, uh…"

She looked him over as he grasped for an explanation for his presence in the 1PP supply room, "Let me guess, your Grandfather sent you to check in on the Commissioner and he wasn't in his office?"

Jamie's brow buckled and he tilted his head, "How'd you guess?"

"You're not the only one the former Commissioner has recruited." She explained, grabbing a ream of paper and heading back to her desk, "As for the location of the PC…" She glanced to Jim who gave a single shrug, "He's still in the building. Have you checked with Garrett or in the kitchen?"

"Not there." Jamie shook his head.

Abbey exhaled, thinking. The Commissioner had to be tired; he Sid and Garrett were camped in his office when she arrived for the day, all three in the same clothes she had seen them in when they had left for the hospital the previous night. He hadn't taken a break through a full day of meetings, but there had been nothing on his schedule for the last 20 minutes. She had half expected him to go home if not settle into an armchair for more reading.

Maybe he wanted to be somewhere less likely to be disturbed….

"Did you check the private office?" She asked.

"The Bat Cave?" Jamie shook his head, "Yeah. He wasn't there. I even looked around Madison Plaza. I know he used to go there to get out of the building when he was Chief."

As soon as Jamie mentioned the Plaza, Abbey smiled, "I know where he is."

She tilted her head and lead the way through the back of the office to the rear stairwell. If Jamie was confused as she climbed up the remaining flight, he didn't say anything.

She shouldered the door open and stepped out, looking around the side of the hatch to confirm her suspicion.

The PC was there, sans his jacket, the bright white of his shirt sleeves contrasted against the tarred flashing of the roof as he looked southward.

"Damnit!"

Jamie's shout had the Commissioner turning around, seeing Abbey and raising an eyebrow.

Jamie came around the corner, concern on his face, "Detective, I accidentally let the door close…"

"Guess we're in trouble then." The Commissioner gave his youngest a dry smirk.

"Dad?" Jamie frowned, "What are you doing up here?"

Frank shrugged and held up an unlit cigar.

Jamie eyed the cigar then looked pointedly to his father.

Frank rolled his eyes and tucked it into his breast pocket. "I don't think it's any big sin to have a smoke during a rough week."

"I didn't say anything." Jamie defended, his hands in the pockets of his windbreaker.

"You didn't need to." Frank grimaced, "You had that look on your face; the same one your mother used to give."

Jamie grinned, "I think you're projecting."

"Mhrm." Frank inhaled deeply through his nose, his eyes scanning the city, "You were looking for me?"

Jamie gestured over his shoulder, "You're not concerned that we're locked up here?"

Frank made eye contact with Abbey, a tug at the corner of his lips, "No."

Jamie blinked and looked to Abbey for clarification. She kept a blank face despite her amusement and the evening breeze running a chill up her spine.

"Care to explain why?" Jamie pushed.

Frank shrugged, "It's nice out here. It's much less so in there. If given the choice to be stuck in either place I prefer here."

Jamie's mouth opened but Frank continued before his son had the chance to speak, "Not to mention it's awfully assumptive of you to say we're _locked_ up here, Officer Reagan."

Jamie halted for a beat, narrowed his eyes and tilted his head before he let his shoulders relax, "You have a key."

"I do." The Commissioner confirmed. "Not really sure how," He looked to Abbey again, "Showed up on my desk one day. It's been useful."

"Because you can't just sit in the plaza anymore." Jamie surmised.

"Something like that." Frank shrugged, "But you've found me." He looked to Abbey, "You've given away my hiding space again."

She shrugged, unconcerned, "I used my judgement."

"Yeah, alright." He accepted, looking back to his son, "What's up?"

Jamie shook his head, "I had a few minutes before I had to head to the precinct. As I was coming over the bridge I remembered during lunch at the hospital Pop mentioned you didn't come home last night so I thought I'd stop by."

Frank evaluated his son with a tilted head, "You know it's the parents who are supposed to check in on the kids, right?"

"I…dunno." Jamie stuttered, readjusting his hands in his pockets, "I just…"

"I get it." Frank released him from his discomfort. "And I appreciate it but I'd think you have enough Reagans to worry about without adding me to the list."

"Yeah…" Jamie exhaled. He looked up, "You hear from Danny?"

Frank nodded, "He and Erin are working an operation now that will hopefully help us dig up Hunt."

"That's good." Jamie nodded, "He was miserable just hanging around the hospital."

"Your brother's never been good at feeling helpless." Frank agreed, putting his hands in his pockets and looking down.

Jamie watched, "Not just him."

Frank looked up and flashed a closed lip grin after a beat. "How are the boys?"

"Good I guess." Jamie shrugged. "When I left the house, Sean was playing video games with Nicky but Jack was just watching."

"It's going to be hard on them." Frank grimaced.

"Yeah." Jamie leaned back against a stack, eyes focused in the direction of the harbor, "I keep thinking, you were in the hospital a couple of times when I was a kid…It always sucked but growing up we knew it was a possibility. It was never Mom." He shook his head, "I don't think I would have handled it well."

"You didn't." Frank smiled softly.

Jamie refocused on him, confused.

Frank mimicked his son's pose, careful not to dirty his dress shirt as he leaned back, "Your mom had emergency appendix surgery when you were a baby." He looked at his son, "You were still breast feeding and did _not_ appreciate me trying to give you a bottle or put you to sleep." He frowned, "Danny had a real hard time with that too. He threw a fit when I told him he couldn't go in to the surgical room and then again when he realized we were going home while Mary stayed overnight…" He exhaled, "Took him a long time to forgive me for that one."

The sound of a phone ringing broke the quiet and the Commissioner fiddled with his pocket, pulling out his phone and bringing it up to his ear, "Erin?"

He listened for a long moment, "Okay, okay. Slow down." He looked to the sky, "Maybe, but it's an operation in motion I can't just stop it." He waited another moment as Erin had more to say. "…Tell you what; I'll send Lieutenant Gormley down. He knows the case and he knows Danny. Don't interfere for now. Just wait and Sid will meet you all back at the Squad."

He exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose as he returned his phone to his pocket.

"Let me guess, Erin and Danny working together isn't going well." Jamie raised an eyebrow.

Frank glared at him, "Don't be a smartass."

Jamie's grin grew and he held up his hands, "I'm not, I'm not…"

Frank shook his head, "They're both incompatibly right."

"Meaning?" Jamie tilted his head.

"Meaning, Danny is an excellent cop. And when everything is on the line and information is the goal, sometimes you need to get creative to make it to the next step." Frank gestured with one hand before held out the other, "But Erin knows when everything is on the line then everything better be air tight because a case can go up in smoke over the smallest detail. The more important the case, the more important it is to go by the book."

He sighed, "Erin is stuck being the face of the course of action _I'm_ endorsing and she's taking a lot of heat for it."

Jamie nodded, "I don't want to add to it but there are more than a couple of guys from my precinct who don't understand the way this is playing out."

"Do you?" Frank looked to his son.

"I do." Jamie was quick to nod, "But I also get their frustration and I get where Danny's coming from."

Frank breathed, pursing his lips. "It was easier…" He muttered to the skyline.

Jamie tilted his head, "What was easier?"

Frank looked back him, almost surprised he had been heard, "Nothing."

"C'mon, Dad." Jamie tried again.

Frank's eye met his then looked down, "It was easier to hold the line before last night."

"Why?" Jamie's brow pinched, "Because of Linda?"

Frank stood from his leaning position but his hands remained deep in his pockets and head down, "Had Mario Hunt not been released he wouldn't have been around to order the murder of Hector Santiago." He emphasized his words with rolls of his shoulders.

"That's not your fault, Dad." Jamie stood in front of his father.

"I didn't say it was." Frank looked up, but his lack of conviction was clear.

"You were right, Dad. You still are. Linda wouldn't want you or Danny breaking or bending the law just because of what happened." Jamie insisted.

"I know." He nodded, "And we won't." He winced, looking back to the surrounding buildings, "It's just harder."

Jamie took a step back, not saying anything, rolling the thoughts around in his head.

Frank looked straight ahead, "Alright, I need to send Sid to the 5-4. If Danny was thinking what I think he was thinking he could use some back up."

Jamie frowned, "You think Erin was wrong?"

Frank shook his head, walking back to the stairs, "I think she just doesn't have the street level reference to know the big picture factors that Danny was counting on."

He paused, key in hand, "How about you head down there too? Get in the middle of your siblings, see if you can help keep them from killing eachother?"

Jamie frowned, "I have a tour."

Frank shrugged, "We'll say you're doing a shift on loan to the 5-4, or directly for me. However it needs to be done."

"You want me to work a shift babysitting Danny and Erin?"

Frank shrugged, "Sounds like 'Serving the Peace' to me."

Jamie sighed, "Alright. It'll take me a while to get over there. I still need to get my stuff."

"That's fine. It's going to be another long night." Frank nodded, unlocking the stairwell door and yanking it open.

Jamie paused and looked to him.

Frank rolled his eyes, "I'll be heading home shortly." He glanced to Abbey, "But Baker, please make sure the detail knows I'll be coming back in if the 5-4 is ready to move on Hunt."

* * *

Abbey glanced at the clock. She didn't often count down to the end of the day but she was really looking forward to the weekend. They were going out to her parent's beach house ostensibly to celebrate Michael's birthday, but she suspected that Brian had arranged for the last minute get-away as an excuse to allow her to decompress after a taught week.

With Mario Hunt finally behind bars and Clinton Wallace transferred to federal custody there was nothing holding her back from leaving on time. She just needed to make it through the next 40 minutes without some new crisis popping up.

"Excuse me?"

A young voice startled her out of her thoughts and she looked up to see a vaguely familiar boy standing in front of her desk. He was wearing a Catholic school uniform and looked to be about 14 with dirty blond hair that had at one point been brushed back but now waves fell onto his forehead. His eyes were skittish behind his dark rimmed glasses and he stood ramrod straight with forced confidence.

"I'd like to see the Police Commissioner please."

The words were delivered with straight solemnity and she forced herself to contain her amused smile as it finally clicked who was standing in front of her. "Jack, right?"

His eyes widened and he gave a muted nod.

She smiled, "I think the Commissioner probably has some time in his schedule."

Jack swallowed and stiffly followed her as she knocked on the office door, opening it without waiting for a reply. "Sir? Do you have a moment?"

The Commissioner looked up from where he sat, a cell phone in each hand, "I'm about to give up on this, so sure."

"Give up on what?" She took a step into the office, still holding the door open.

"This new phone isn't showing any of the people I had in my old phone." He held up the new phone next to his old one with the cracked screen. "Ideas?"

She smiled, "I can give it a shot if you want to give them to me while you meet with the young man waiting for you."

The Commissioner's brow rose in curiosity. Abbey looked back through the open doorway and gestured for Jack to enter.

The young teen hesitated a beat and took a deep breath before stepping forward, his eyes tempted to look around the room before he looked at his Grandfather.

For his part, the Commissioner blinked and then smiled, putting his phones down on the desk. "Jack!"

Jack's fingers worried at the hem of his jacket, "Good afternoon, Sir."

The formal tone deflated the Commissioner's happy expression and his eyes narrowed and glanced to Abbey. She shrugged minutely.

He looked back to his Grandson, "Good afternoon. What brings you by?"

Jack straightened again, swallowing, "I want to talk to you about a case."

Frank's lips twitched and Abbey noted the effort he made to respect the gravitas with which Jack was coming to him. "Okay." He stood and gestured to the couch, "How about we talk over here while Detective Baker fixes my phone."

Jack nodded his agreement, waiting for his Grandfather to sit on the couch before he followed, standing awkwardly by the chair.

"You can sit down, Jack." Frank offered.

Jack nodded and sat on the edge of the seat.

Frank looked him over for a long moment, lips pursed, "The case you want to discuss, I assume it has to do with your mom?"

Jack exhaled and his stiff exterior fell away, "I heard Lieutenant Gormley telling Dad about witness protection for the guy who shot Mom."

"Curtis Turner." The Commissioner provided.

"Yeah." Jack pushed at the bridge of his glasses, "He's going to get witness protection?"

"He is." Frank confirmed.

Jack huffed, "But what about what he did to Mom? He's not going to pay?!"

Frank held up a hand, "He is." He shifted to sit back, "In Curtis' case Wit-Sec just means he is going to serve his time in a jail in a different state with a different name." He tried to offer a comforting smile, "In addition to shooting your mom, he killed a witness. He will be spending a long time in jail, as is he man who told him to do it."

"Really?" Jack's voice softened.

"At _least_ 15 years." The Commissioner confirmed.

"Oh." Jack nodded and looked down, "That's good."

Frank watched him, "Is it?"

"Yeah." Jack nodded.

He didn't move from his position and the Commissioner frowned and tilted his head, "Jack? What else is on your mind?"

The teen swallowed, wiping his palms on the front of his pants before he looked back up, "Does getting shot hurt?"

Abbey looked up in time to see the Commissioner blink and jaw slacken.

"I mean…" Jack shook his head, "I know it hurts. But how bad?"

The Commissioner's lips rolled, "Jack…you shouldn't be thinking about this."

"How can I not?!" Jack stood from the chair.

Frank exhaled through his nose, glancing to Abbey before looking down, an elbow braced on each knee, hands clasped. "Jack, look…" He looked to his grandson, sighing when it was clear that the boy's curiosity would not be dismissed. "Okay, the good thing is that most people don't actually remember being shot."

"Really?" Jack's head tilted.

Frank shrugged, "Between shock and then the meds in the hospital things get real kind of…fuzzy."

Jack re-took his seat, "Fuzzy…?"

"Best way I can put it." Frank rolled his left shoulder, "By the time it clears up all you can remember is some vague images and everything is really just sore."

"Like after you've had a cast on for a few days?" Jack's brow furrowed.

"Kind of like that." The Commissioner nodded.

Jack's head bounced in a repeated nod, his grandfather watching him for a long, still moment.

"Jack…" He pursed his lips, considering the rest of the sentence, "Your Mom is a strong woman and her doctor is the best. She's going to be fine." He exhaled, "But it will take a little time and both she and your Dad are going to need you to be strong too."

The boy didn't reply, head bent and hands fidgeting with his pant leg.

Frank waited a beat and leaned closer, "You okay?"

"I'm okay." Jack nodded again before taking a deep breath and standing up, "Thanks."

The Commissioner's eyebrows arched, "That's it?"

Jack blinked and turned his head, "What do you mean?"

"I _mean_ ," He also stood, hands in his pockets, head tilted down, "That this is the first time in a long time you've come all the way over here." He shrugged, "Want a tour of the building or something?"

Jack's mouth tightened and he spared a moment to look around the room before shaking his head, "That's okay. I have to get home before Dad gets back and Sean rats me out."

"Rats you out for visiting your Grandfather?" Frank smirked.

"For taking the subway by myself without permission." Jack admitted.

"Ah." The Commissioner nodded. He smiled, "Then I suppose I shouldn't be letting you get _back on_ the subway by yourself."

Jack's shoulders dipped, "It's no big deal. I've done it before."

"Well I wouldn't use that as your excuse to get out of trouble with your Dad." Frank grinned. The grin faltered when his amusement was not returned by his grandson. "Alright, how about this? We call your Dad and let him know you're with me and in a couple of minutes I'll take you to meet your Dad and Sean at the hospital."

Jack stared back at him for a long moment before nodding stiffly, "Okay."

"Good." The Commissioner clasped his hands and looked back to the desk, "How's it coming over there Baker?"

She frowned, looking down at the two devices, "I've managed to log in to your cloud back up but the contacts still aren't sync-ing."

He looked at her, face pinched in confusion.

"You need to select contacts in the sync menu." Jack spoke up.

Both she and the Commissioner turned their attention to him.

"Where is that?" She went back to the settings, scanning for the option.

"Here." Jack stepped over to her and took the phone from her hands and with a few quick swipes he held up the screen, "See? All set now."

He looked back at the phone, "Grandpa, how come everyone in the family has an asterisk in front of their name?"

"To keep you all on the top of the list." The Commissioner explained gesturing over Jack's shoulder.

"Why don't you just add us to your favorites screen?" Jack looked up at him.

"Huh?" The commissioner blinked and looked back at the phone.

"And none of your contacts have associated pictures. If you link your account then you can see the picture of each person in your addressbook." Jack began fiddling with the phone again.

"Okay, well you go ahead and…" The Commissioner's words trailed off as Jack was already immersed in making the suggested changes. He looked to Abbey, "I think you've been replaced as my tech support."

She smiled, and put his old, broken phone back on the desk as she headed for the door, "You won't hear me complain."

"Alright." He nodded picking up his briefcase, "Tell the detail that I'm going to pack up in here and then we'll be riding out to St Victor's." He looked to his grandson for a beat, "And probably a stop at the Cold Stone on Flatbrush."

Jack looked up sharply, "Really?"

Frank grinned, "Somedays call for Ice Cream for dinner. Just don't tell your brother."

"No way!" Jack beamed.

Abbey smiled, "I'll let Detective Nucifero know."

She glanced back at the clock as she returned to her desk. Almost time for the weekend to begin…maybe she could convince Brian that they too needed ice cream for dinner…


	64. Reaction

_A/N - The summer before Season 6 starts._

* * *

"DADDY!"

"I see you Buddy. Nice job!"

Abbey winced and leaned into her husband, "I really don't think he should be up there. Can't we get him to climb on the smaller playground?" She gestured to the slide geared for smaller children next to the full-size playmaze that Michael was currently working his way up.

"Relax." Brian wrapped an arm around her, "He's been climbing up this one all summer."

She exhaled but nodded, "As long as he knows to be careful."

"He does." Brian smiled, "He's a smart kid. Besides," He made a broad swipe of his hand indicating everyone attending the city's 'First Responder's Appreciation Celebration', "Is there a safer place for a kid to play?"

Abbey sighed, tempted to explain to her husband that in order for a First Responder to be of assistance there needs to be something bad for them to respond _to_.

She tried to swallow her concerns; Brian spent more time with Michael and she accepted that he was more intune with his capabilities. She didn't want to come off as the over protective mother.

"Jaaaaack!" She watched a boy yell from the top of the monkey bars, "Bet you can't do this!"

She smiled when she recognized Jack Reagan responding to the challenge, scoffing and jumping to reach a rung, swinging his lanky frame up to catch another with his knees.

"Sean, Jack! Be careful!" A familiar voice shouted from behind Abbey, "Use things as they were intended?"

"You mean to climb on?" Sean smirked back.

Abbey twisted out of Brian's arms to turn and verify the identity of the woman cautioning the Commissioner's grandsons.

"That attitude isn't going to get you very far!" Linda warned her youngest.

Abbey snickered and waived when her amusement caught the other woman's attention.

"Hey there Detective…I mean Abbey." She smiled and came up to her and Brian.

Abbey returned the warm smile, "It's so good to see you!"

Linda bounced her eyebrows and gave a shrug, "As they say, it's good to be seen." She grinned, "Happy 4th."

"Happy 4th." Abbey glanced around the crowd, "Is the rest of the family here?"

"Jamie and his partner were around a little while ago and Danny and some friends challenged the firefighters to something but haven't settled on the game yet." Linda gestured in the direction of a group of middle aged cops standing in nearby field.

Abbey sized up the officers in the group and compared them to the huddle of FDNY. "I think they'll be better off with softball instead of football." She smirked.

"Or kickball…" Added Brian.

"I'm thinking bocce." Linda smiled back.

"Aww, come on, gotta have more faith in our guys than that! You all have no respect." Sid Gormley elbowed into their conversation, his wide grin sobering as he looked at Linda and leaned in for a gentle one-armed hug, "Linda. How you feeling?"

"Better every day, thanks." She returned the embrace.

"Good." He nodded. He turned back to waive in the men he had been talking with, "Linda, Baker; you know Thomas Kent, and this is Sergeant Trey Delgado. Trey, Abbey and Linda…and… I'm sorry….?" He tilted his head at Brian as Linda and Delgado shook hands.

"Oh, Lieutenant Gormley, this is my husband, Brian." She stepped back, allowing the men to lean in and shake hands.

"Nice to finally meet you Lieutenant." Brian smiled flatly.

"It's Sid." The Lieutenant returned, grinning, "Abigail talks about you and Michael _all_ the time."

Brian's smile relaxed, "Same about you folks over at 1PP."

Abbey winced a beat and redirected her husband's attention, "Brian, this is Thomas Kent. Sergeant, this is Brian."

Brian shook his hand, "Abbey has told me about your parents. I'm sorry."

Thomas nodded stiffly, "They were the best for sure." He turned to Linda, "And I'm really glad you're doing better."

Linda smiled, "Thank you, but how are _you_?"

He shrugged, "One day at a time."

"I understand that." She agreed with empathy.

Thomas smiled, "I don't know if my mother ever told you how much she liked you." He looked in Danny's direction for a beat, "After you two got engaged she kept saying how you were the best thing to ever happen to Danny."

Linda's eyes dampened, "I adored your mother too. I don't know if I would have made it this far if it weren't for her and Mary."

"Excuse me, Sergeant Kent?" A dark haired man in an out of place suit interrupted the quiet moment, inserting himself between Sid and Linda to face Thomas. "I'm Chief Helfond."

"I know." Thomas stiffened, "You're taking over the gang unit."

"Your father left some awfully big shoes to fill." The Chief's lack of enthusiasm for his promotion was clear in his pained smile, "But I wanted to let you know my first act was to approve your transfer; I'm real happy to have you on board."

"Thank you, Sir." Thomas nodded sedately, "The Commissioner called me about the approval last night. I'm looking forward to get to work next week."

If the Chief was surprised by Thomas' mention of the Commissioner, he didn't show it in anything more than a blink.

"I didn't know you put in for a transfer." Delgado tilted his head, "Good for you, you'll be making your father proud, I'm sure."

Thomas shrugged but didn't respond to the compliment.

Delgado kept smiling, "Now the next legacy cop this department needs to find a place for is Reagan's youngest…" He elbowed Gormley, "What's his name? Out of the 12th?"

"Jamie." Sid supplied, flashing a knowing glance to Abbey and Linda.

Abbey kept her mouth shut as the Sergeant continued, oblivious to his audience, "Did you know the PC's son is still walking a beat? 5 years on the job, and all reports are he's got the family skills but he's still in an RMP out of the same precinct he started in."

"Maybe that's what he wants to be doing." Thomas supplied.

Delgado rolled his eyes, "That family fielded two commissioners, ambition has got to be in their family crest. Besides, he's got a law degree from Yale or something. He can be doing more than responding to noise complaints" He looked to Helfond, "Chief, you should try to pull him in. There's a rumor he did a special assignment for OCCB a few years back."

"I don't think that's such a good idea…" The Chief looked to Abbey then Sid.

Delgado grinned, "Why not? There some big secret why the guy is still on patrol?"

"No secret." The Chief shrugged, "You're right, by all accounts Officer Reagan would be an asset but I literally took this job last week, I don't need the PC pissed off because he thinks I'm sucking up."

Linda furrowed her brow in consideration and Abbey looked to Sid who was staring at his shoes.

"You don't think the Commissioner would be happy?" Delgado looked between Sid and Helfond.

Sid took a heavy sigh and looked at Linda for a beat before shrugging one shoulder, "It's not that he wouldn't be happy; he just wants his kids to succeed on their own."

"And doesn't look favorably on those who might be undermining that integrity?" Delgado finished.

"That's about right." Helfond confirmed.

"I can respect that." The Sergeant nodded.

"You better," Sid smirked, "You're on the fast track Trey; keep your nose in line and you too will be at 1 PP soon."

"THOM!" Danny Reagan's voice carried across the field, pulling the attention of the group. "We need wide receivers; find my brother and the two of you get over here!"

Thomas grinned, "I think I'm being summoned."

"Go." Sid dismissed, "Make those hose jockey's sorry they left their kitchens."

"They playing football?" Delgado looked over to the field, "I'm going to see if I can jump in…" He nodded to Sid and jogged after Thomas.

Sid rolled his eyes, "I guess I need ta go watch, make sure we don't have a repeat of last winter's hockey game."

"Good call. I was there for that, bad stuff." Helfond nodded, "I'll join you."

Abbey looked to Linda who rolled her eyes, "We'll stay here. Let us know if any bones need setting."

"This is not going to be good." Linda muttered as the men walked away.

Abbey grinned, "What?"

"Danny refuses to admit that a man in his 40's is not as durable as a man in his 20's." She shook her head, "Which just means for the next 3 days he's going to be walking around stiff as a board from the beating he's about to take while trying to act like he's fine."

"Mom?" Sean came running to them, a few bills crushed in his fist, "Can I go get a popsicle? I have 3 dollars."

"You _just_ had an ice cream sandwich." She crossed her arms.

"So?" He set his shoulder and frowned.

Linda shook her head and smirked at Abbey, "See what you have to look forward to?" She looked back to Sean, "3 desserts per week and no more than 1 a day. You know this."

The young boy glowered for a moment, but his face quickly brightened when a familiar dark SUV pulled up to the edge of the park. "Grandpa's here!"

Abbey took note of the pained wince Linda quickly covered as she reached out to snag Sean's shoulder before he went running to meet his grandfather, "Hold on Sean. This is a work thing for him, we've talked about this."

Sean's frustration returned and he scowled, stopping just short of stomping his feet. He shifted with impatience as the Commissioner exited the SUV as dressed down as he ever was, in khakis, NYPD polo and hat. Behind his sunglasses he scanned the park, attention eventually landing on them.

Sean smiled again as he realized his grandfather was heading their way, telling saluting officers to relax as he passed by.

"Hey!" He greeted once he got close, leaning in to give Linda a kiss on the cheek, "How's it been going over here?"

"Pretty good so far." Linda smiled, "Ask me again in about 20 minutes." Frank followed her gesture to the football field where a heated disagreement was already in progress.

Frank shook his head, "Maybe it's better if I just don't ask."

"Probably." She nodded.

"Baker." He nodded in greeting, "Brian," He held out his hand, "Good to see you again."

"You too, Sir." Brian returned the shake self-consciously.

Abbey let out a huff and looked up to her boss, "I thought you weren't coming?"

He shrugged, "I was already in Manhattan checking in with the FBI at the parade and thought it wouldn't hurt to stop by." He glanced to Sean and then to Jack who had jumped from the jungle gym to greet his grandfather, "Plus I knew my favorite Grandson would be here."

The two boys beamed, then faltered, looked at one another and then back to him,

"Which one?"

"Is it me?"

They asked simultaneously.

Linda shook her head at her father-in-law, "You're starting trouble."

He grinned at her, dimples deepening before he looked back to the boys with mock seriousness, "I suppose I have space for _two_ favorite grandsons." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten, handing it to Jack, "How about you get yourself and your brother a popsicle from that stand back there."

Linda's hand rubbed at the bridge of her nose as the boys barely spared her a glance before they darted for the popsicles.

"It'll ruin their dinner." She glared fondly at him.

He shrugged, "They're 12 and 15 years old; they'll eat plenty for dinner."

Abbey smirked in amusement, her eyes glancing around the rest of the crowd for the figures she remembered seeing earilier.

"What is it, Baker?" He asked, picking up on her drifting attention.

She sighed, and winced, "If Garrett were here he'd want me to point out to you that Councilmen Tong and Ramirez are both over there and Representative Barrett is by the grill."

Frank's eyes surreptitiously zeroed in on the politicians she mentioned and he sighed, "I suppose I should mingle."

"You don't _need_ to." She smiled.

"Remind me about that the next time the council is pushing through some asinine vote." He muttered.

He gave a closed lip grin to Linda, "I'll check in with you before I leave."

"Have fun." She waved, waiting for him to turn away before grimacing and arching her back slightly.

Abbey bit her lip, anticipating that Linda was probably still in discomfort, if not pain, but also knowing that in the middle of the second month of recovery she was likely exhausted of being treated with kid gloves.

She gave Brian's hand a squeeze, "Honey, do you mind keeping an eye on Michael while I go sit on that bench?"

Brain frowned, "Of course, you okay?"

"Fine." She shook her head, "I just want to sit in the shade."

Brian's brow furrowed at the overly sweet smile she directed at him but he shrugged and nodded.

"I'm sorry." Abbey looked back to Linda, "It's just so hot out."

"Oh I get it." Linda nodded, "I'll join you."

Abbey smiled, pleased with her little plan as she noted the cautious manner in which Linda lowered herself to the bench.

She looked to the other woman, "So, tired of being asked how you're doing?"

Linda chuckled, "This has been my first big outing so there's been a lot of it today." She shrugged, "But it's nice, I guess. People just want to show they care. I get that."

"Yeah." Abbey nodded, thinking that she was not nearly as rational and patient about the attention she received after she had been shot. "How's Danny been?"

"He hovered a lot for about 4 days until he caught a couple of bad cases he had to go 100% on. That helped settle him back to normal." She continued to smile, but it faltered, becoming slightly more strained, "Which is a good thing."

Abbey didn't counter the obviously forced statement, gaze landing on Linda's boys, returning from the pop stand with fudgsicles staining their mouths and she recalled Jack's nervous conversation with the Commissioner back in May. "Seems like the boys have been good too."

Linda nodded, "Yeah. It scared them, but they're kids, they have their own lives that it's hard for them to see past. It took them a couple of weeks to really believe I was going to be okay but after that it was quick for all the typical teenaged boy stuff to come back."

She watched the boys, "I _have_ been impressed by Jack. He was really there for his brother and he is still helping with the laundry without my having to ask."

"That's great." Abbey nodded, "I can't get over how fast he's growing up. The both of them."

"It flies by…" Linda sighed, watching her boys.

Abbey smiled, scanning the park for her own boy. She zeroed in on him just in time to see Michael wobble on the edge of one of the top platforms and the wide-eyed look of panic as he was brushed by another kid running past.

She was out of her seat before he hit the ground.

 _"MUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAAA!"_

Somewhere in the back of her mind she was grateful for the blood curdling scream; it meant he was conscious and hadn't broken his neck but the sound made her heart seize and she felt her legs move faster than she had ever thought possible.

Despite her speed, a faster blur came from the opposite direction, vaulting over the balance beam to beat both her and Brian to their sobbing son.

"Hey buddy, hey…it's okay…my name's Jamie, I'm going to help you." He was saying, hands moving over Michael's shoulders and arms, searching for obvious injuries as she dropped to her knees next to them.

He did a double take, "Detective; is this your son?"

Abbey opened her mouth to speak but found her mouth was dry so she just nodded, leaning forward to wipe Michael's tears, "Baby, it's okay. Mommy's here."

" _MUH…MUH…MUH…MUH_ …." Michael's cries heaved and reached up his hands grabbing for her. Instinctively she reached to pick him up.

" _Muh-AAHHHHHHHHHHHH!_ " He screamed louder as soon as he shifted and Abbey almost dropped him in shock.

Brian knelt in front of her and she gently lay Michael back down, propped against his father's thighs.

Jamie winced, "I think he might have broken his leg."

Abbey stared at him for a beat before looking down to see where he indicated a pronounced bump a few inches below her son's right knee.

She brought a shaking hand to her mouth and forced herself to take a few deep breaths. She rubbed Michael's arm, "Baby, does your leg hurt?"

"Uh- _huh_ …hurwtz… _MUMMMMmmmmahhhhh_ …" He whimpered and cried, reaching for her again.

She swept back his bangs and kissed his forehead, "We're going to make you feel better, just let Daddy hold you and Officer Jamie is going to help, okay?"

Jamie smiled, "Yeah, you're going to be just fine bud; I've fallen off of this thing lots of times and I know who can really help make everything better." He looked over his shoulder, "LINDA!"

He needn't have yelled, Linda was already coming over, using her brother-in-law's shoulder to leverage herself to the ground.

"Hi Michael," She smiled and patted him on the cheek, "Did you fall all the way from up there? You are very brave."

"Uh-huh…" He nodded, tears still falling.

Linda winced and looked at Abbey and Brian, "That's pretty clearly broken, he's lucky it's not compounded. We can splint it and make him a little more comfortable for the ride to the hospital but you definitely need an orthopedist to look at some x-rays."

"Splint it…like wrap it?" Brian questioned, eyes wide.

"Just to stabilize it." Linda nodded.

Brian leaned back and began pulling off his shirt.

"What are you _doing_?" Abbey blinked at her husband.

He continued stripping off his shirt, frantically pulling his arms out, "We need something to splint it with! This is what we have."

The steady calm of Jamie and Linda had helped Abbey begin to recover some of herself and she smiled at her husband, "We're at a first responder cookout; we don't need to use anyone's shirt as a splint."

She looked over her shoulder, "As a matter of fact…" She looked back to her husband, "Can I have my keyring?"

He held Michael gently as he shifted through his pocket for the keys she had given him to hold on to. Accepting them she jogged up to the PC's SUV and popped the trunk, pushing aside the communications equipment to reveal the first aid kit.

"Here." She jogged back and handed her findings to Linda. "Everything we have in there is too big but I figured we could use this ankle splint and ace bandage."

"That'll work fine." Linda nodded beginning to adjust the plastic splint, "Just need to keep it steady for the car ride."

"Car…" Brian muttered looking at Abbey, "I'm sorry."

She waived him off, "I agreed with you about taking the subway. It made total sense at the time." She bit her lip as Michael began to cry in earnest again as Linda wrapped his leg.

"You don't have a car with you? We can call a bus." Jamie offered, his cell phone in hand.

Brian tilted his head.

"An ambulance." Abbey clarified. She sighed, holding Michael's hand and stroking his hair. "What do you think, Bri? Do you want to try holding him in a taxi or should we just ask for an ambulance?"

"Or how about you take a ride with me?"

Abbey's head whipped up at the sudden sound of the Commissioner's voice. He was standing over Jamie's shoulder, sunglasses in his hand as he watched Linda's ministrations, "Lights and siren without the hassle of an ambulance?"

Abbey looked to Brian who was wide eyed and frozen, holding tightly to their crying son.

She looked back to the PC, "We wouldn't want to inconvenience you; you just got here."

"No inconvenience." He put his hands in his pockets and shrugged, "This was always going to be a brief stop. Pop is expecting me at home and I want to let the detail enjoy _some_ of their holiday."

She clenched her teeth for a beat and again looked at her husband. He gave a stilted nod of agreement and she breathed. "We'd really appreciate it."

"Of course." He nodded, "We're headed to Bay Ridge so we can go to one of the Brooklyn hospitals instead of downtown?"

"That sounds great." She nodded, looking back at her son whose crying had softened to a whimper and whine.

"Sounds like an excellent plan to me." Linda smiled, stroking Michael's arm, "And you are all set to go in a fun ride in the cool car!"

Michael didn't stop his crying but he did blink at her with clear intrigue.

Abbey helped keep Michael's leg steady as Brian shifted and stood while Jamie and Frank helped Linda stand back up.

"Thank you so much…" Abbey looked to both Jamie and Linda after Michael was appropriately adjusted in Brian's arms.

"Of course." Linda nodded.

"Just hope he feels better." Jamie added.

Abbey didn't hesitate and turned to follow Brian who was tight on the heels of the commissioner, heading to the SUV.

"I'll take the front so you two can both be with Mikey." The Commissioner suggested as he opened the door.

Abbey hesitated, "Are you sure?"

"Just get in the car." He intoned, staring at her unrelentingly until she climbed in the back after Brian and settled uneasily into what was typically the commissioner's seat.

The Commissioner took shotgun and looked to McCarthy, "Heading to Brooklyn." He looked over his shoulder as the engine started, "Presbyterian, St. Victor's or…?"

Brian looked up, "You said you're on your way to Bay Ridge?"

"You want to go to the Children's hospital south of the cemetery?" Frank surmised.

Brian nodded, "Yeah, the one off Ft Hamilton Parkway."

"You got that?" He looked to McCarthy who nodded and flipped on the lights as he pulled away from the curb.

Michael sniffed and whimpered into Brian's chest as Abbey stoked his good leg.

The Commissioner looked over his shoulder, "He broke it below the knee?"

"That's what it looks like." Abbey nodded, grimacing.

He pursed his lips, looking at the make-shift splint, "At least it's not the femur. That's the worst; both for pain and recovery."

"I guess something about silver linings…" She accepted with a sigh. "He's still so young, I don't want a stupid playground accident to impact him for the rest of his life."

"Kids bounce back fast." The Commissioner tried to comfort, "Each one of mine broke _something_ between the ages of 4 and 15." He shook his head, "Between Danny and Joe alone we had a stretch of 5 casts in 5 years."

Brian shook his head, "I really hope this isn't the start of something like that. I don't think my heart could take it."

The Commissioner chuckled, "I understand. But at a certain point the frequency inures you to it."

Abbey raised her eyebrows in his direction, recalling his reaction every time a member of _his_ family was injured.

He caught her incredulousness and shrugged, "At least a little bit."

Abbey smiled and looked back to her boys, pleased to see some color had returned to Brian's face and he no longer had the panicked look in his eye. He smiled tightly back to her as his eyes roamed around the kitted-out SUV.

"So…" He tilted his head to look up to the dash, "Why was the FBI at the parade?"

The Commissioner arched his eyebrows, "What?"

"You said you were out because you were checking in with the FBI at the parade." Brian recounted, "Was there something going on?"

The PC's smile sobered and he shook his head, "Nothing specific. They have a contingent at most parades and other major soft targets."

"Soft targets?" Brian repeated.

"Something vulnerable and potentially attractive for an unsophisticated attack." Abbey defined for him.

"Like Boston last year? The marathon?"

"Exactly." The PC confirmed. "No matter how much man power I put on the parade there is no way we can protect it from everything and an explosion in that crowd would make the kind of impact that terrorist aim for."

Brian winced, "Sometimes I really need to just accept what I don't know."

The Commissioner nodded, "You'll sleep easier."

Brian glanced at Abbey and she averted her gaze. Her worries about attacks in the city and the actual close calls they had were some of the things she never shared with him but had contributed to some of her own sleepless nights.

"I guess it's comforting to know the preventative efforts you're taking." Brian nodded, "I mean, you've kept us all safe this long."

The Commissioner grimaced and looked ahead, "We have a lot of good people on the ground and have had a lot of good luck." He sighed, "But I can't help but look around the world and think we're just about overdue for our luck to run out."

Abbey raised her eyebrows, "Not a promising conversation with the FBI I take it?"

He glanced back at her then to Brian and offered a small smile, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Brian shifted Michael, "Helps put a simple broken bone into perspective."

"That's a good way to think about it." He glanced forward as the pulled off the parkway and into the hospital's entrance loop.

He gave Michael an encouraging smile, suddenly blinking a thought and making a face, "Where are…?" He muttered to himself and began digging through the glove compartment as the car came to a stop.

Abbey pushed open the door, as the Commissioner made a satisfied sound and opened his door as well, coming to stand next to Abbey as Brian gingerly made his way out, careful not to jostle Michael.

"Thank you so much, Sir." She sighed.

"Really no problem." He assured, "Gave me an excuse to leave." He looked to Michael, "And you, young man." He smiled, "The doctors are going to make you all better but because you've been so brave and good for your Mom and Dad, you get _this."_

He held up a plastic shield, "And I am officially naming you Junior Deputy Commissioner." He pinned it to Michael's t-shirt. "Do you think you'll be able to stay this brave when you're with the doctors?"

Michael blinked in awe at the shiny pin and held it with both hands, trying to turn it on his shirt. "Immm very brave." He nodded, sniffing back the tears still coming down his face. "I will be berry brave wid the docturs." He looked to the Commissioner and then to his mother, "Mumma look!"

She smiled, "I see it baby. I am very proud of you." She smiled her wordless gratitude to the PC.

"Sir, thank you." Brian did his best to reach out a hand.

The Commissioner shook it with a nod, "Good luck in there," He gestured the hospital doors, "I hope it's quick and easy."

"Us too." Abbey agreed stepping away as he got back in to his traditional seat in the SUV, "Have a happy 4th, sir."

"Happy 4th." He waved through the rolled down window before nodding for McCarthy to pull out as Abbey and Brian turned to enter the ER.


	65. Corollary

_A/N - Season 6 - First half is immediately after 'Worst Case Scenario' (and sets up an explanation for one of Abbey's comments in the 'Bullitt Mustang') - the second half takes place after Absolute Power and shortly before 'All the News That's Fit To Click'_

* * *

"We are with you in any way we can help and we are sorry for your sorrows…"

Abbey swallowed as she listened to the Commissioner obfuscate yet another close call for the city. She switched off the car radio and exhaled, rolling down the windows and trying to focus on the warm summer breeze as she crossed the bridge.

She consciously relaxed her hands from their white knuckled grip on the steering wheel and concentrated on breathing until she pulled alongside the house.

Releasing one final breath she checked herself in the mirror and affixed a smile to her face.

No sooner had the door closed behind her, an uneven thumping sound approached from around the corner.

"Mumma!"

"Hey baby!" She smiled, dropping her bag and eagerly picking Michael up, wincing as his plastered leg swung against the inside of her thigh.

She kissed his cheeks and breathed him in, "Daddy gave you a bath!" She pulled back, smiling.

"I think we're finally getting good at it!" Brian announced looking through the doorway from the kitchen, "It's almost too bad that thing is coming off this week."

She smirked at her husband with a fond sigh, "You shush. This cast can't come off soon enough." She looked back at Michael, "Right, baby boy?"

"I'm not a baby!" He announced pushing away from her.

Abbey contained her frown, "You're right, you're my big boy."

He smiled and hugged her neck before wriggling out of her grasp and hobbling back to his toys in the living room.

She bit her lip watching.

"Everything okay, Babe?" Brain leaned against the door frame, "You left pretty early this morning."

She blinked and refrained from wiping at her eyes, "Just one of those days." She tried to shrug nonchalantly and toed off her heels before approaching her husband and giving him a quick kiss, willfully denying her urge to hold him tight.

Brian nodded and turned away to pull a wine glass from the rack, "Everyone must have been all on edge because of the attacks in Asia and Europe, right?"

She exhaled, dropping into one of the kitchen chairs, "You got it."

"That's the nice thing about having an ocean on either side;" He smiled, popping the cork from a bottle and pouring generously, "It's a lot harder for those bastards to hit us over here." He handed her the glass, "I'm just sorry you had to lose sleep and probably be stressed out over something that is ultimately nothing."

Abbey focused on the wine, certain her face would give away what she wasn't allowed to tell; that the ocean did very little to protect them. That if it weren't for a patriotic immigrant and alert stripper, a series of lucky coincidences and persistent police work, hundreds, potentially thousands of New Yorkers would have been maimed or killed in blasts similar to the ones that had erupted around the globe in the last 24 hours.

She took a long sip of the wine and looked up, "I'm just happy to finally be home."

Brian grinned, "I'm sure you are." He bent over and kissed the corner of her lips, "Did you guys eat or do you want me to heat something up for you?"

She exhaled, relaxing for the first time, "I'm starving; I don't care if all we have are Cheerios."

"Well, you _know_ we have those." He smiled stepping away and opening the fridge, "But how's some eggplant lasagna sound?"

"Heavenly." She gushed, popping her earrings off.

She leaned back in her chair and watched her husband fix her a plate, "So, how was _your_ day?"

"Actually," He turned around, "I heard some news that may be of some interest to you and your coworkers."

"Oh?" She raised her eyebrows.

"So," Brian poured a glass of wine for himself, "Manhattan DA has been a constant cycle of interims for ages, right?"

"Right…" Abbey nodded.

"I know the new one the Mayor is going to appoint on Monday." Brian smirked, pulling her plate from the microwave and settling into the chair next to her.

"Who?" She looked at him incredulously, "And how do you possibly know before I do?!"

Brian leaned back, "Think about it. Who is a big shot lawyer that we know, who is also a big enough windbag that he'd brag about an interim position to his former classmates before it became official?"

Abbey frowned, eyes flicking over Brian, her fork hovering midair when it finally struck her, "It is _NOT_." She blinked.

"You've got it!" Brian shook his head, "The most pretentious, self-righteous, jack-ass in my class is getting exactly what he always wanted."

"Ugh…" Abbey pouted as she chewed, "How…"

Brian shrugged, "He was one of the lawyers who did work for the Mayor's old community action group and more recently his firm had a big part in defending that fundraiser who used to work for Poole."

" _Defended_ being the operative word." Abbey shook her head, "The man was a prosecutor for less than a year after you guys graduated. Since then he's had a clear agenda and it's _not_ pro- law enforcement."

"You mean pro- _cop_." Brian corrected knowingly.

"So what?" She volleyed, "The DA is supposed to work _with_ the NYPD if they want to accomplish anything. The system doesn't work if the man on the top floor has said that he has an inherent distrust of cops."

"I agree he's a cad; but he's a smart guy." Brian shrugged, "He has to know he needs to get along with you all." He sipped his wine, "Besides, he'd have to declare all-out war on the cops in order to be worse than McCoy calling out Reagan on live TV last year."

She sighed, and grimaced before biting into her lasagna, "I still don't like the guy."

* * *

"Commissioner's Office." Abbey answered automatically as soon as she brought the phone to her ear, "Detective Baker."

" _Hey there Abigail_." A warm voice came through the line, " _It's Jim Voutay_."

She smiled, immediately recognizing the voice of the old friend of the commissioner's. "Hi Jim; give me a minute and I'll patch you through."

" _Hold on…_ " He stopped her, " _I actually need to talk with you first._ "

Her eyebrows rose, "Oh?"

" _I'm in town the week after next, and want to get together with Frank but don't want to bother him if he's busy_."

Abbey smiled, "I'm certain that he'd make time for you."

" _And I'm certain you can't guarantee that_." He returned, " _But as of now, does Frank have any time on Thursday or Friday?_ "

She skimmed the calendar open on her desk, "He does; Thursday evening and Friday lunch; Which would you like?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, " _Pencil me in for Thursday. And have Frank give me a call at his convenience?_ "

"He's just with Garrett now; he can probably take the call if you're willing to hold a minute?"

" _Sure._ " He agreed, " _But don't push if he can't, I can wait_."

"Just a sec." She pushed the hold button and returned the handset to the cradle as she stood and let herself into the Commissioner's office.

"…go around pissing off the Mayor!?" Garrett was in the middle of arguing from the center of the room.

" _He_ crossed the line." The Commissioner was by the window, pouring a glass of water and waiving his hand dismissively. "If he's pissed it's his own problem."

"No Frank; it's your problem which also means it's _my_ problem." Garrett's arms dropped by his side.

Frank shook his head, stalking back to his desk, "Only because you indulge this nonsense. They're politicians and it's 2 months out from an election; Don't play their game."

" _Don't play their game_ …?" Garrett shook his head, "That's your advice?"

"It's all I've got." Frank shrugged, moving around stacks of folders. "And what do you have?" He gestured to Abbey.

"A phone call." She replied, "But he says he can call back."

Frank matched eyes with Garrett, tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, "We _done_?"

Garrett rolled his eyes and turned for the door, " _Apparently._ " He muttered as he yanked it open and left.

Frank shook his head, and looked back to Abbey.

She smothered her reaction to the squabbling and gestured to the phone with her chin, "Jim Voutay."

The Commissioner's face brightened as he picked up the phone, "Jim?"

With a breath Abbey turned and exited the office, stopping in place when she noticed Danny Reagan hovering by her desk.

"Detective." She greeted evenly, eyes tracing the stiches on his scalp and the sling holding his left arm, "The Commissioner is just on a quick call; you can go right in."

"Actually…" He shifted his weight, "I'm here to see you."

"Me?" She blinked in surprise. She had known Danny for almost as long as she had worked for his father but of all the Reagans he was the most stand-offish and the one she would least expect to seek her out.

"Yeah..." He looked around. "Do you have a few moments to get out of the building? I'll buy you a coffee?"

She frowned, "Coffee?"

"Yeah." He shrugged with his good shoulder, "Coffee."

She bit the inside of her lip and glanced at the closed office door behind her.

Danny sighed, "He knows I was planning on coming by."

Abbey looked back with an eyebrow raised, her curiosity propelling her forward. "Okay."

The elevator ride was mostly silent as she tried to puzzle out Danny's unusual request.

"How much longer with the sling?" She asked with a nod to his shoulder as she held the door open for him.

"End of the week." He grimaced, "It's fine; I'm just wearing it to keep everyone off my case."

Abbey smirked as the care with which he adjusted it belied his true discomfort though he did a good job of covering his wince as he jostled some cash to the coffee vendor before passing a blue and white cup to her.

They settled on a bench away from the main pathway to the building and Abbey waited for Danny to explain their purpose.

He sniffed and took a sip of the coffee, leaning forward before adjusting and straightening back.

"I was chatting with my old man after dinner yesterday." He started casually as if getting coffee in the plaza was a common occurrence, "I didn't realize how far back you two go."

She blinked, confused by the comment, "What do you mean?"

"He said you met down at Ground Zero?" He tilted his head and flicked his eyes over her.

"We did…" She confirmed with a slow nod. She looked at Danny, trying to anticipate where this was going. "He saved my life."

Her comment clearly caught him off guard. His eyes jumped to hers. "He didn't mention that."

His tone held genuine interest and Abbey smiled, not surprised the Commissioner had abbreviated his role in their introduction.

"What did he say?" She leaned forward, curious for the PC's retelling of the event.

Danny shrugged, "Not much. He said you were in one of the towers and lost your partner but went back to work and ended up with his team on the presidential visit detail."

Abbey huffed and shook her head.

Danny's eyes pinched, "What did he leave out?"

"I _was_ in the North tower; a stairwell collapsed over me." She took a deep breath and glanced over her shoulder to the top floor of 1PP behind them, "Your father is how I got out."

She looked back down, pulse quickening as she remembered the moment when an obscured face had peered at her through the hole in the rubble.

She returned her attention to Danny. "He showed up out of nowhere. Pulled me out and made sure I made it back to my precinct."

Danny looked away, thinking over her words, a small smile turning up his lips.

Abbey shifted, determined to redirect Danny back to his original purpose, "So, how did that come up in conversation?"

The smile fell away from his face and he swallowed, eyes flicking over her, "Don't be mad at him…okay?"

She frowned, "Mad at who?"

"My old man." Danny winced, "The Commissioner. Your boss."

She straightened and pulled her shoulders back, "…Why would I be mad at him?"

Danny shifted and leaned forward, bracing his good elbow on his knee.

He didn't look at her, keeping his eyes straight ahead, "He was telling me that you've come through some tough times; first 9/11 and then you got tangled up with the Marianos when you were working out of the 2-7."

Abbey stiffened at the name of the crime family who had been the target of her investigation when her partner was killed and she had been shot.

Subconsciously her hand dropped to her knee and her thumb rubbed over the small remaining scar. She reminded herself to breath slow and steady through her nose.

It took two breaths before she was confident she could speak without her jaw quivering, "Why?" She swallowed, trying to return some moisture to her mouth, "Why would he tell you about that?"

Danny's whole being tightened and his eyes focused on his coffee cup, "Linda."

He looked to her over his shoulder and Abbey blinked. She had seen Linda back on the 4th of July. Aside for some winces of discomfort she had seemed fine.

"I don't know what to do…" He looked back to his coffee. "She's afraid. All the time. For herself, for me, for the boys, for Jamie, for Pops, for Dad." He shifted his stance and Abbey feared the paper cup in his hand would not much longer tolerate the white knuckled grip he had on it.

"She doesn't sleep, she spaces out for long periods of time. She spoke with a Doc before she left the hospital and he said it would take a while but it's been five months." He gestured with his slinged arm, "And this has just made things worse."

He bit his lip and looked back at her with a vulnerability that stole her breath, "Dad thought you might be someone to talk to."

The initial resentment she had felt at learning her history had been a topic of conversation began to fade and she sighed.

"I don't know how much I could help." She started slowly, "I'm not a therapist. The best I could probably do is make sure Linda knows she's not alone."

She looked away, subtly scanning their hearing radius. "The Commissioner was right; I had to figure out how to deal with somethings before landing here. After 9/11 I was prescribed sleeping pills and later, after I was shot, I was told that the incidents had a cumulative effect and I was diagnosed with PTSD."

She shrugged, "I don't know if that's really what it was; it's not like I was in a war zone or anything…" She averted her eyes from Danny, "But I had a hard time believing life would ever return to normal. I wanted to quit." She frowned, "Actually, I _did_ quit."

Danny looked at her, "What happened?"

She smiled, "A nosey Chief of Department offered me an alternative."

Danny's face creased enigmatically to something akin to impressed; but if it was impressed with her or with his father she wasn't sure.

"Well, that I can understand." He finally nodded, "Even relate to."

She tilted her head, "Really?"

He nodded, "Really." He exhaled, leaning back against the bench.

Abbey frowned and looked him over, "I know you've seen a lot. I know what happened to your unit in Fallujah." The corners of his eyes tightened but he didn't look away as she continued, "And eventually I hear or read about every shoot-out you have..." She visually traced his face, "But you keep going back out there…It doesn't trip you up like it did me."

He grimaced and rubbed at the back of his neck, "It's not exactly like that… but going back out there, not stopping…it's just how we are."

She blinked, "' _We'_?"

He shrugged, "Yeah…Reagans I guess…" He shrugged, "I mean, Dad…Dad _still_ won't tell me what he went through in Vietnam and some of the things he faced on the job…" He looked down, "And all that Pops went through…I almost wish he _hadn't_ told me."

His jaw tightened and he flicked at a bit of bark off his pant leg, "I've seen a lot but it's nothing compared to them and _they_ never missed a beat."

Abbey narrowed her eyes, her mind snapping through memories of Frank Reagan sleeping on his couch, drinking in the office, desperately seeking busy work, lost in thought in a darkened room…

For a moment, she wondered how much the men kept from one another for fear of showing weakness, even to family.

"So what?" She tilted her head, "You don't know how to help Linda because she's not bouncing back like a Reagan?"

"That makes it sound…" He scowled at her, his defense slipping, "Yeah, okay? Maybe. I don't know."

Abbey sighed, "I think you need to think about where she's coming from since _before_ the shooting." She started slowly. "You…you throw yourself in to dangerous situations but each time you know what all the potentials are and, on some level, are ready for them."

She looked around the plaza, the various 1PP personnel coming and going, "Even if it makes an impact on you, your subconscious or whatever already has a plan for how to deal with it; _'This wasn't unexpected. Now just be like Pop. Just move on. Everything will return to normal eventually._ '"

"It's harder if you aren't ready for it." She frowned, "I wanted to join the NYPD to help people and I was prepared for boring tours, mountains of paperwork and citizens resentful of being issued a summons."

She swallowed and took a breath, "I was _not_ prepared for 9/11. I was _not_ prepared for a shootout with gun runners in a dark parking garage." She shook her head, "I don't know if any amount of therapy would have made me confident enough to go back out and do what you do."

She looked at him for a beat, "Linda's a nurse. She doesn't _have_ a mental preparation plan for how she's going to react to trauma. Being shot was never something she considered a possibility, never mind in her workplace by someone she knew and liked. She was not prepared for _any_ of that."

Danny's eyes were focused on her, taking in each word and Abbey smiled sadly, "It's no wonder she's feeling uncertain about everything." She bit her lip, "And I wish I could tell you some magic trick that helped me get through it."

She looked down, "The truth of the matter is I _didn't_ really recover from everything. I had to change my reality because I couldn't go back to my old one. Even years later someone will say something that will spark a memory that's a little too strong for comfort."

She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed at the goosebumps, "I'm just fortunate enough for an opportunity to keep contributing. If your father hadn't offered me a job and a way out I don't know what would have become of me. I certainly didn't see a way forward for myself."

Danny looked away and exhaled a shaky breath, his face taught and thumbs restlessly scratching the side of the cup.

"I'm sorry." Abbey winced, "I know that's probably not helpful."

Danny shook his head, "No, it helps." He straightened, his eyes restlessly tracking the others in the plaza. "It helps me understand a little more." He shook his head, "I just don't know what to do. I go back to full duty next week and it's going to cause problems."

Abbey winced, "Is she seeing a therapist?"

"Not yet." Danny looked down.

"That's probably the place to start." She tilted her head.

"Yeah. Probably." Danny nodded, non-committedly. He looked back to her, "Would it be weird to ask you to talk with her? Just to, like you said, let her know she's not alone?"

Abbey shrugged, "Sure, I mean, I like Linda but she's going to think something's weird if I just show up."

"I'll figure something out." He waived it off. "I just want her to see there's an end to the tunnel and other people have figured it out."

"I was lucky." Abbey frowned.

Danny shook his head, "That's a matter of perspective."

Abbey narrowed her eyes and he shrugged, "You were self-aware enough to do what was best for you and to accept the hand that was offered." He firmed his lips, "That's more than luck."

Abbey bit down on the inside of her lip, uncertain how to respond and settling for silence.

Danny allowed the moment to sit before he looked to her with a raised eyebrow and half grin, "My Dad really saved you from the collapse?"

Abbey nodded, a soft smile growing as she recalled the sense of relief, "He did."

Danny looked away and sipped his coffee, "Guess that makes sense."

"What's that mean?" She tilted her head to better see his expression.

"You've always been…good…to him. Real good." He shrugged, "It makes sense for your kind of loyalty to have a story." He winced, "I always just thought that you and Joe had had a fling."

Abbey blinked, her mouth dropping open, "Joe..." She shook her head, her humor catching up to her and smiling, "Joe was a class-A flirt but there was never...we never..."

Danny snickered, "I know that _now..._ "

She shook her head, slowly sobering, "No...I got to know Joe after I started working in the Chief's office." She pursed her lips, thinking, "Your Dad has earned every ounce of loyalty himself; it's been a long road. He's a good man and a good boss."

Danny nodded stiffly, "He is."

Abbey watched him for a few moments, "You know I'm not the only person he saved that day? He's probably responsible for a hundred people evacuating the tower before it came down."

Danny's eyes scanned her face, evaluating her words. His lips began to turn up in a smile but fell into a grimace and he looked away, "I have no idea what he did that day. I wasn't there and he never talks about it."

"You weren't there?" Abbey blinked, mentally doing the math on what she knew about Danny.

"I was in the Bronx." He began fidgeting the frayed edge of his paper cup, "They wouldn't let us off tour and I ended up directing traffic over the University Heights Bridge. Didn't get down there until after dark on the first day. Even then I spent half my time looking for Dad instead of actually helping."

He exhaled, "Word had come through that _he_ had been in one of the buildings when they came down and I hadn't heard from him." His swallowed, "But I found him in the middle of the pile with Stan Rourke plotting out bucket lines." He clenched his teeth, "Not missing a beat."

Abbey smiled, remembering the seeming omnipresence of Deputy Chief at the time.

Danny shrugged his good shoulder, "He was there around the clock for 2 weeks and just kept at it." He shook his head, "I couldn't. I was so angry I shook bad enough I could hardly help lift debris. Sat in a 5 hour line at the recruiting station the next day."

Abby smiled, picturing a young Danny Reagan amped up to take the fight across the ocean, "That's how you channeled what happened." Abbey shrugged, "Your father dealt with it by staying and working and I was able to keep my mind off that big picture stuff as long as there were tasks to be done and followed by a lot of not sleeping." She looked at her thumbs, "I bet it's the same now with Linda; she just hasn't figured out how to channel her reactions to everything and until she does the only outlet she has is to worry for you and your family."

Danny sighed, "Yeah."

"I'm happy to talk with her but I really think you need to start with a professional." Abbey reemphasized.

"You're right." Danny nodded, finally squeezing his empty cup into a tight ball, "You're right."

She watched him as his jaw shifted and he gave a slight nod, coming to some internal decision before he stood, "Thanks Detective."

She stood as well, "You know you don't need to call me Detective, right? Most the rest of your family already doesn't."

"With one notable exception?" He glanced to the building behind her.

"Actually he usually just calls me _'Baker'_." She shrugged, "Like anyone else on the job."

"Noted."

Abbey watched as Danny tossed his destroyed cup into the nearby trash.

She tilted her head, "And I'm happy to do anything I can to help Linda. You still have my cell, right?"

"Pretty sure." He nodded, "If not, I know someone who does."

"Good." She nodded.

Danny looked at her tightly and held out a hand, "Okay. Well. Thanks, Baker."

She smiled and accepted the shake with a solid single pump, "Anytime, Reagan."


	66. Colloquy

_A/N The first half takes place between 'Friends Like These' and 'Backstabbers' and the 2nd half takes place on the Saturday before the dinner scene in 'The Bullitt Mustang'. Other episodes are referenced._

* * *

Sid Gormley pinched the bridge of his nose as he looked at the folder over Abbey's shoulder. "Wait, go back to that other page."

Abbey flipped it back, looking between the Lieutenant and the report.

"That ain't right." He mumbled pointing to a line in the middle of the sea of statistics.

She followed where he pointed; the B&E numbers from a single precinct in Staten Island were 15% off from the previous month and about 10% different from the surrounding precincts.

She frowned and pulled up the original source data on her computer. "I'm sorry." She shook her head, "It's not a typo. That's what was sent to me."

"Okay." He sighed and pulled out his phone, dialing a number as he flipped back between the pages, "Hey Sheila?" He stepped back as he spoke, "Yeah, I'm real sorry; I'm going to be late again."

Abbey could hear the muffled tone of Sheila Gormley through the other end of the line. Though she could discern no words, the Lieutenant's wife was clearly not happy.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. Just…" He scowled, "Yeah. No. Don't wait up….Love yo…" He frowned as the line disconnected and he stared at the silent device in his hand.

Abbey grimaced, "I'm sorry. I know you need this sorted by the morning. I can stay and help figure it out?"

"Nah." Sid brushed aside the offer, "I hafta drive down there and talk to Tessitore myself; not much to be done with what we have."

He sighed and leaned back against the low filing cabinet next to Abbey's desk. "I just figured that eventually there'd be less days like this."

Abbey bit her lip. An impressive amount of time had been required Sid's first few months in the office just to get a handle of the mess that Arbogast had left behind.

Things had started to normalize for him, but around the time of the Kent shooting the Commissioner began to lean on the Lieutenant more and more; something Abbey knew pleased Sid but also meant his workload expanded and so did the number of hours he had to put in.

"You should take a few days." She shrugged, closing the report and handing it over, "Take Sheila away for a long weekend."

"Right." Sid shook his head accepting the heavy binder with a scowl, "That'd just give her extended airtime to tell me how much time I'm not spending on her."

Abbey resisted rolling her eyes, "We all go through it you know. You start by thinking working here will be easier than being on an ever-changing tour schedule." Her eyes flicked to the framed picture of Brian and Michael, "It's not."

Sid followed her eyes, "I guess it's real hard for you?"

"It's different." She deflected, the rest of her explanation interrupted by the sound of the elevator.

She looked with piqued interest as the Commissioner walked past, not looking up from a document in his hands as he disappeared into his office, Jamie Reagan following closely behind.

Sid looked to Abbey, eyebrows raised, "The kid up to something?"

Abbey shrugged, as uncertain as he was, "Would be news to me."

They weren't left long to their speculation as the intercom came alive, "Baker. Can you and the Lieutenant come in?"

They glanced at one another and Abbey grabbed her notebook, entering the office.

Jamie sat in the furthest chair, spine ram straight and palms pushing into his thighs. He looked less like a son in his father's office and more like a beat cop on the spot in front of the Commissioner.

Abbey withheld her smile, struggling to gauge the room but Sid didn't hesitate, stepping up and offering a hand, "Jamie! What's got you visiting today?"

Jamie swallowed and stood to accept the handshake, but the Commissioner answered for him.

"Officer Reagan brought my attention to shortcomings when it comes to adequately preparing our officers to deal with EDPs." The PC explained from his position behind the desk.

Sid's eyebrows arched and he stepped in front of the other empty chair and sat down, "Boss, dealing with the mentally ill isn't anything new; it's got to be 40% of the calls our guys take." He looked to Jamie, "But aside from doing what we can to make sure everyone goes home safe I'm not sure what's expected here; we can't be psychologists."

"We're already stuck in that position." Jamie refuted, the tension in his frame ebbing slightly as he sat back into the chair he had risen from and addressed Sid directly, "Sometimes getting everyone home safe means figuring out the ways to communicate with these and doing the right thing with them after they're detained."

"That's a tall order." Sid shook his head, "You got answers?"

Jamie deflated, "No. No, Sir." He shook his head and looked down, "Not yet."

"That doesn't change the fact there's a problem." The Commissioner reasserted himself into the exchange, "And putting our hands in the air isn't going to help anyone."

"So?" Sid looked to him, "What's the plan?"

The PC gestured to the paper he had been reading on his way in, "Officer Reagan has assembled a list of mental health professionals and city officials who would be willing to sit on a six-month advisory committee to discuss the issue and come up with recommendations."

"He has?" Sid looked to Jamie who seemed torn between sitting at attention and wanting to shrink into his chair.

"He has." The Commissioner nodded again. "But it's on us to invite the right department brass; let's get the DCs of Collaborative Policing, Strategic Initiatives and Training on board as well as the Chief of Community Affairs and one of the budget guys." The Commissioner made short hand notes in the margins, "Of course, Lieutenant, you should sit in as much as possible as well."

Abbey watched as a subdued reaction played across Sid's face as he nodded, "Of course."

The Commissioner looked to Abbey, "Can you help Officer Reagan set up an list-serv and reserve the meeting room at City Hall?"

"Of course." She nodded, "And line someone up to keep minutes, I assume?"

"That'd be good." He nodded, followed by a quick, closed mouth smile in Jamie's direction, "Thanks all. Let's see if we can do some good."

They all nodded their confirmation and Jamie stood to leave the room with Abbey and Sid. He hesitated but seemed to rethink his actions and continued out of the room without offering a parting comment to his father.

"That's some initiative, Officer Reagan." Sid smirked at him, "It's good to see you finally working to move up in the department."

"That's not what I'm doing." Jamie shook his head, "I just want to help solve a problem."

"Mhrm." Sid glanced at Abbey with a wink, "By adding more to _my_ calendar?"

Jamie winced, "I'm sorry about that Sarge…I mean Lieutenant…Dad just suggested I put together a list; I didn't think he'd pull the trigger on it just like that."

"Why waste time getting caught up in red tape if you don't have to?" Sid shrugged, heading for the stairs, "Abigail, you have my calendar. Just let me know when the meetings are and I'll be there."

She hesitated, "Are there any days you'd like to avoid? Maybe evenings with personal commitments that don't show up in your work calendar?"

"What?" He turned, brow furrowed for a beat before he seemed to recall their earlier conversation, "Oh. Nah. Work is work. Just schedule me in whenever."

She inhaled but made the note in her folder before she smiled at Jamie, "Do you have the contact information for everyone on the list?"

"Uh…yeah…" He fumbled for his phone, "I'll email it to you right now."

He hovered in front of her desk as she sat back down and opened the file he sent. She looked at him over her computer monitor, "You're on the committee?"

"I wasn't given much choice." He winced rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's good." She encouraged, "But you're going to hear more things like what Lieutenant Gormley suggested."

Jamie sighed, "I know."

Abbey's eyes flicked over him, "You worked undercover, and then that cold case a few years ago, and now this; you really don't have any interest in getting off the beat?"

He shrugged, "I don't know." He rocked on his heels, sticking his hands in his front pockets and shrugging, "I know there are expectations out there for me but I like what I'm doing." He looked around the office, "Anyone ever ask you if you're going to move on from here?"

She smiled and leaned back in her chair, "Sometimes."

"So, you get it." He gestured.

She sighed, tapping her pen on the desktop, "It's not really the same thing though, is it?"

He stared back at her and then glanced at the closed door to the Commissioner's office. He grimaced and looked down, "I really don't know what to tell you, Detective. I like my job. I like walking a beat and riding a perimeter with my partner."

He shifted a shoulder, "I just like to help. Sometimes that means accepting a special assignment and sometimes that means bringing a street level problem to the attention of the PC." He looked down, "It doesn't have to mean I'm looking to leave my post."

He inhaled and when he spoke it was quieter, "Besides, no one is going to be keen to hand out promotions while Dad is in this office."

Abbey's eyes flicked up, attempting to evaluate that observation.

"I don't have a problem with it." He clarified, "I'd rather be a beat cop with him as the PC as opposed to being a detective or sergeant with _anyone_ else in that chair."

Her eyes narrowed, taking in his earnest, if a little bit nervous smile. She relaxed back in to her chair, "I get it. I do." Her attention returned to scanning the city hall calendar, "But you know the Commissioner has said that if you wanted to move up he would personally see to your promotion."

She didn't look up from the screen but the corner of her eye caught the abrupt movement of Jamie's attention shooting to her.

"I…" He cleared his throat, "ehm. I…"

She looked at him in patient expectation. He glanced to the closed door then back to her and shook his head. "Nevermind."

She smiled and decided to let him off the hook, "How does every other Thursday from 6 to 7 sound?"

He nodded, "Uh, good. Real good."

"Okay." She clicked the mouse. "You have your first meeting booked for next week and the room is yours every other week for the next 6 months. If you need it changed, let me know."

"Good." He nodded, fiddling with the pen in his hand and pausing in thought. "Hey, Detective? Can you do me a favor?"

She tilted her head, "Depends on what it is."

"Yeah, uh…" He glanced back at the closed door, "Can you send the initial scheduling invite to everyone? I kind of want to downplay my part in all of this."

Abbey paused, looking him over for a beat before nodding, "If you're sure."

"Please." He nodded, resolute as she typed the quick email and hit send.

"There you go." She looked up to him.

The tight lines of his face gave way to a smile, "Alright." He fisted his hands together in a pumping motion as he turned to leave.

"Never seen anyone so excited for a meeting before." She called after him.

He glanced back at her and flashed an unabashed smile, "Just excited to do as the PC instructed; Do good work."

* * *

"So then she springs that on me and I don't know… I just don't think he'll go for it."

Abbey leaned back in her chair at the dining room table and watched Linda move aside stacks of the boys' schoolwork and clutter as she spoke.

In the month and a half since Danny had approached her, Abbey and Linda had gotten together a half dozen times. What had started out as a stilted arranged meeting had quickly developed into something more organic.

As Linda vented her challenges of her recovery Abbey realized how much she had smothered over the years and found that providing Linda a sounding board actually helped her work through the issues she had been ignoring for far too long.

She gripped her tea and leaned over the back of the chair, "Have you brought it up to him at all? It's clear Danny really wants to help; he's just not sure how."

"I know. I know." Linda breathed frowning as she picked up a dirty athletic sock off the floor. She held it up, "See what teenage boys do?" She shook her head and gestured to the yard where Sean was trying to teach Michael how to swing a whiffle ball bat, "There are days when I wish they were both 3 again."

Abbey grinned, "Well we are just on the cusp of declaring victory over potty training; I'm not sure I'll want to look back once we cross that hurdle."

Linda pursed her lips, "Valid point." She crossed the dining room and tossed the sock into a laundry basket on the living room couch.

"So, about Danny and Dr. Bennett…" Abbey refocused.

Linda exhaled, her back still turned. She shook her head, "I don't know how to ask him." She looked back to Abbey, "He's cut from the same cloth as his father and grandfather; they internalize _everything_."

She sighed and finally dropped into the chair at the head of the table, "I mean, you know Frank, how reserved he is. Compared to Henry, he wears his heart on his sleeve."

Abbey snorted and Linda rolled her eyes, "And that's how Danny is. Once in a blue moon he'll offer a glimpse of vulnerability but 99% of the time he's just like them; don't talk about things or wallow, they just…" She sighed, "Move on. And they definitely do _not_ do therapy."

She bent her head and picked at her thumb.

For a moment Abbey was tempted to share that she knew for a fact that one Reagan had at least attempted going to a therapist, but she knew that would be breaking a confidence so instead she bit the inside of her lip and tried encouraging, "That's them." She shrugged lightly, "Doesn't need to be you."

"Well it certainly isn't." She exhaled. "I wish it were."

She stood up again and Abbey sat still as Linda flit about the room, moving the vase of flowers from the table to the counter and then checking the dishwasher and restacking the school books for the third time.

Abbey stood and leaned on the kitchen door frame, "Dr. Bennett is helping, right?"

Linda paused in the center of the kitchen and looked back at her, "I think so. At least it feels right when I'm there."

"And Danny loves you and wants to help?" Abbey prompted.

Linda sighed and closed the dishwasher, "He's said as much."

Abbey shrugged, "Then just ask him." She tilted her head, "If he thinks it will help you, he'll go."

Linda grimaced, doubts clear on her face.

Abbey was flicking through what other possible encouragement she could offer when the front door banged open.

"Linda?!" Erin Reagan's voice called out.

Linda blinked and turned in the direction of the front door. "Erin? What are you doing here?"

"I need a drink and probably shouldn't crack a bottle alone." Erin entered the kitchen holding up a bottle of wine, tension clear across her face, "It's after 3, is that too early?"

"Uhh…" Linda looked blankly at Abbey.

"Oh." Erin stilled, noticing she wasn't alone with her sister-in-law, "I'm sorry I didn't mean to interrupt."

"It's okay." Abbey waived a hand.

Erin's brow creased and she looked to Linda, "Dad recruiting you to join the 'Make-Erin-Feel-Bad-For-Doing-Her-Job' crew too?"

Abbey winced and straightened, "It's Saturday, I'm here on my own time with nothing to do with the Commissioner."

Erin looked her over for a moment.

"Come on," Linda took the wine from Erin's hands and rummaged through the drawer, pulling out a bottle opener. "We were just shooting the breeze. Sit and tell us what's going on."

Erin sighed and reached for the glasses off the shelf.

Abbey shifted and thumbed over her shoulder, "I can go if you'd rather."

"No…" Erin sighed, handing her a glass, "I do feel bad for interrupting whatever was going on here but I just can't sit on this anymore." She followed Linda to the table and poured generously, "I just can't promise anything nice will be said about your boss."

"Wouldn't be the first time." Abbey tried to grin her assurance, internally she was grateful for the invitation to stay.

She had spent Friday watching the anger and frustration and hurt play out for the Commissioner as the interim-DA's underhanded assault on the department was worsened by his using of Erin to front the operation. Abbey had enough respect for Erin that she wasn't about to lay into her about the whole scenario but a part of her hoped to hear something that boded for a better week once Monday rolled around.

Erin shook her head and took a deep drink, grasping the back of the chair but not yet sitting down.

Linda raised her eyebrows and made eye contact with Abbey. "So, you want to fill us in?"

Erin shook her head, "Jamie texted me. _Apparently_ , Dad made some big show in the precinct of upstaging the union guy and ordered everyone to show up for their trial dates and not behave like jackasses."

Linda and Abbey both sat in their chairs, "Isn't that a good thing?" Abbey ventured, reaching for the bottle and pouring a little wine for herself.

Erin scowled, "Sure, but _now_ he gets to claim the upper hand. After he spent a half hour last night not even _trying_ to listen to me and raking me over the coals for doing _my job._ " Abbey winced, recalling the raised voices last night and the blue Tiffany's box containing Erin's birthday gift that had remained in the office after Erin had left, discretely wiping at her eyes as she had passed Abbey's desk.

Erin dropped into her seat, "Jamie's text was all about how _I_ should be giving _Dad_ a break. As if I've had _any_ say in _any_ of this to begin with!" She took another deep drink.

Abbey shifted, "Personally, I think all this frustration isn't being directed at the right person."

Erin's eyes flicked to hers, "What do you mean?"

She fiddled with the stem of her wine glass and shrugged, "Even _if_ I were to agree with what your office is doing…" She glanced at Erin and the two acknowledged their differing perspectives with a slight, permissive smile, "The _way_ the DA went about it was all wrong."

Erin snorted.

"Seriously, though." Abbey leaned forward, "If anyone in your office was curious about your position with the NYPD all he needed to do is look through your history since you've become deputy bureau chief; there was no need to put you in the middle of this like some kind of test."

She shook her head, "He should have shown some respect and given both you _and_ the Commissioner a heads up before they started arresting officers out of their precincts." She took a sip of her wine, "The current DA is a manipulative cad."

Both Linda and Erin blinked at her. She stared back, "What?"

"You have some strong feelings about the interim DA." Linda observed.

"A lot of NYPD do after this week." Erin muttered.

"I haven't like him a lot longer than that." Abbey clarified, putting down her glass. "He was in school with Brian." She shrugged, "Knowing the things he's said in the past, I was _not_ surprised that he'd do something like this. I can't stand him."

Erin's eyes traced over Abbey and she exhaled, "Well, let's just suffice it to say that I don't entirely disagree." She leaned on the table, "But he is who is and he's my boss. The only person who has really had a choice here has been Dad and how he has chosen to react. "

Abbey firmed her lips closed and sat back while Linda frowned, "I'm sorry, you're going to have to catch me up here." She looked between the two other women, "What'd Frank do?"

"What's he _always_ do?" Erin spared a glance at Abbey before looking back to Linda, "He treats me like I'm 15 and that I work for him; neither of which apply." She rolled her eyes, "First he's angry about the actual arrests, then he's angry I didn't give him a heads up, then he's angry when I try to defend myself."

She shook her head, "Knowing eventually I'd have to talk to him yesterday hung over my head like a damn executioner's sentence."

Abbey looked down so she didn't see Erin's eyes narrowing in her direction, "What is it, Baker? He say something?"

Abbey shifted uncomfortably, "I don't…" She winced.

"No, come on. Out with it." Erin leaned forward, "I want to hear what the great Police Commissioner had to say for himself. Even without his disapproval it was one of my top five worst days on the job and that's _not_ an easy list to crack."

Abbey ground her jaw and inhaled through her nose as she looked over the brunette across the table. Erin radiated the same hurt, and frustration the Commissioner had carried with him.

She sighed and her shoulders dropped, "You could have called earlier." She grimaced as she said the words, disliking the taste of accusation that came with them.

Erin blinked, "What?"

Abbey lifted her shoulders, "He had me call your office how many times during the day? And you didn't call back until after 4."

Erin leaned forward, "Need I remind everyone I. Don't. Work. For. Him." She shook her head, "I had a lot going on and I can't be at his beck and call every minute of the day."

Abbey couldn't help but roll her eyes, "Come one. You didn't call back because you wanted to avoid the confrontation."

"Damn right." Erin agreed. "Sorry if I didn't look forward to having a fight with Dad ruin my whole day."

Abbey shook her head, "Maybe it wouldn't have been a fight if you hadn't left him to stew in with all his uncertainties."

" _Stew in his uncertainties_?" Erin scoffed. "He knew exactly what was going on."

"No. No he didn't, Erin." Abbey fired back, "I was in the room when he watched your press conference and then when he had to tell Garrett what the department's response would be." She shook her head, "He was at a complete loss."

Erin's jaw remained set and firm, eyes scorching, but she didn't say anything, her silence encouraging Abbey to elaborate.

She sighed, consciously reminding herself to dial back her instincts to defend the Commissioner; she was talking to the PC's _daughter_ after all.

"Look, he wanted to keep his distance and just lambast the DA but he also didn't want Garrett to undercut you; making it look like you're just a puppet." Abbey swallowed, "He wanted to respect you as the professional you are but at the same time you _know_ how he feels about defending the rank and file." She shook her head, "Respecting you as a professional meant that _you_ were the one he had to protect them from. It wasn't clear and it hurt."

She leaned back in her chair, "Which is why I put the blame squarely on the shoulders of the acting-DA. He knew exactly what he was doing. Using you as a human shield."

Erin pursed her lips and looked down, "You make it sound like I didn't have a choice."

"Didn't you?" Linda asked, leaning forward.

Erin sighed, both elbows on the table, "I don't know anymore." She took a sip of wine and looked to Abbey, "And I know it put him in a tough spot. I hate that. I'd love to talk to him about it, but you heard him last night; he wouldn't give me the space of a breath to say anything. It was all him tossing accusations."

Abbey winced, what she had heard the previous evening had been notably one sided. "You know how proud men act; they lash out when they are off balance."

Erin snorted and looked at Abbey over the rim of her glass, "I really hope he pays you enough to have you sit there defending him on your day off."

Abbey rolled her eyes, "You want me to say I think he was wrong? That he should save some of his infamous composure for his daughter?" She shrugged, "Maybe I agree with that to an extent; but I also watched that composure fracture each time he asked if you had returned his call and I had to look him in the eye and say 'No'."

Erin locked eyes with her but broke first, looking down.

She sighed, "Erin, I'm sorry, I know you came here to vent, I didn't mean to make you feel worse."

"No, it's okay." She held up a hand and tried to smile, "You're right. I should have returned his call."

"You're also right that you don't work for him." Abbey offered, "He shouldn't assume he can get answers from you anytime he wants."

Erin exhaled, "Well, it will be interesting dinner tomorrow…"

Linda winced, "You just hold your ground, don't let the guys pile on."

"Well Grandpa hasn't had the chance to have his say yet, so I'm sure there will be something." She glared glumly into her glass. "And Nicky wants to ask Dad to do some assembly at Columbia next month so my usual defender will be busy sucking up."

Abbey's eyebrows rose; Columbia was a good school but had also hosted some well attended anti-cop rallies over the last few months, she wondered what kind of assembly Nicky had in mind.

"I know my opinion doesn't mean much when it comes to police things but I'll try to keep Danny in line for you." Linda offered with a supportive smile.

"Thanks." Erin smiled back, "That would at least be something but it's actually Jamie I'm most worried about; Eddie was one of the officers summoned."

Abbey frowned, "Didn't she submit testimony against him in the whole incident with the bicyclist?"

Erin shook her head, "No, her words were twisted. They're still on good terms and he's pretty fired up on her behalf."

"Well _that's_ no surprise." Linda smiled, pouring some more wine.

Erin rolled her eyes, "Oh come on. You don't still think after all this time?"

Abbey frowned, "What?"

Linda and Erin made eye contact and Linda leaned forward, "We think Jamie has a crush on his partner."

"Had. _Had_ a crush." Erin clarified. "Like over a year ago."

Abbey had a brief flashback of Eddie confessing to her some of her own feelings and Abbey raised her eyebrows at the news the simmering attraction might be mutual. "You really think if he had a crush on her a year ago that it would have changed after another year of riding together?"

Erin shrugged, "He hasn't acted on it. I think my brother is like a priest; more interested in his _calling_ than in an _earthly relationship_." She fluttered her eyes.

Linda snickered. "The poor guy." She shook his head, "I like Eddie. She'd be a good fit; Jamie could think about and talk about policing 90% of the time and she'd be okay with it.

"But they'd have to stop riding together." Abbey pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess that takes something out of it." Linda frowned. "Oh well. He's a good guy. I hope he figures something out; I'd like to see him with someone."

"Not everyone is destined to have the kind of relationships you two enjoy." Erin shrugged. "Jamie is like Dad, as long as he's working he'll be happy."

"Oh come on," Linda leaned in, "You don't think Frank would quit on the spot if it meant that he could have your mother back?"

"That's not what I'm saying." Erin rolled her eyes, "Of course he misses Mom, we all do, but he stays busy with work and that's enough to keep him content."

"Yeah, well you better hope it's not just work keeping him going 'cause he's not going to be working forever." Linda warned, leaning back. She glanced to Abbey, "What do you think?"

Abbey blinked, blindsided by again considering all the ramifications that came with the PC calling it quits. "Uh, well…" She considered her words, "I think that if Mary were still around the Commissioner would be running the office very differently than he does."

"You mean he'd put in less hours." Erin clarified.

"If that's even feasible." She shrugged. "I don't know. There have been times he's talked about resigning before but it's been a while."

"But it'll happen someday." Linda added, "And sooner than later. It's a lot of responsibility to carry for as long as he has." She looked back to Erin, "Considering all that you're going through right now you might be looking forward to the day there is someone else in that office?"

Erin sighed and stretched her arms across the table, "Maybe. No, not really." She looked up, "We'll get over this and when we do I'll be glad he's there."

Linda smiled, "Just try to keep that in mind tomorrow during dinner."

"Ugh." Erin groaned, leaning back in her chair, "This has got to have been the worst birthday ever."


	67. Deflection

_A/N: Takes place within "Hold Outs"_

* * *

 _" Treading Water In Poole's Second Term"_

 _Beleaguered by new questions in to the dealings of some of his most prominent supporters, the Mayor seems to be struggling to reinvigorate the start of his administration's second term._ _With recent unusual comments coming from 1 Police Plaza, Police Commissioner Frank Reagan, previously considered one of the most stable appointments in city government, is added to the mix of public officials whose tenure is now uncertain…"_

"Anything good in the news today?" Brian asked as he entered the kitchen, dropping a kiss to the crown of Abbey's head.

She closed the metro section as he moved to the Keurig, "Same old same old." She leaned over the paper and watched her husband putter around the kitchen, "What are your plans today?"

"I need to stop by the office for a couple of hours this morning but after that, just fixing that corner of the basement." Brian shrugged, sipping his coffee and leaning against the counter.

Abbey nodded, "Stopping by the office, that's unusual; everything okay?"

"Yeah, of course." He shrugged, "I just want to pass off a few files to Todd and you know how he is with technology. Trying to Skype with him would be a nightmare."

"Oh. Yeah. Good." She nodded and swirled around the coffee in her mug.

Brian stepped forward and dropped in to the chair next to her, "What?"

She shook her head, "Nothing, I'm just…" She grimaced and looked around their kitchen, "I love this house, I really do. But sometimes I wonder if we moved on it too fast. If something happens to one of our jobs will we be able to keep up with the mortgage?"

"If something happens to one of our…?" Brian repeated in disbelief, "Something going on?"

"No…No…" She pulled up a smile and leaned more over the paper, "I just get in my own head sometimes; you know that."

Brian smiled, "You know I love my job and I love taking care of our son and I know _you_ love _your_ job and taking care of our city." He kissed her forehead, before standing up, "Stop worrying. I'm going to go shower."

"Sure…" she muttered, looking back at the article she had been covering. "Easier said than done."

* * *

She tried not to allow the ambiguity of the Commissioner's future weigh on her mind, but she couldn't seem to be able to shake it over the course of the day, especially after Garrett essentially confirmed that it was more than overblown newspaper speculation.

Catching herself eyeing the closed office door for the third time in 20 minutes she mentally reprimanded herself while still moving to push the door open.

The Commissioner was at his desk like normal, Garrett seated across. They both looked at her expectantly and she blinked, "Erm, we're putting on another pot of coffee; do you need any more in here?"

The Commissioner paused at the innocuous but unusual inquiry before shaking his head, "I think it's all set for the rest of the day."

"Okay." She nodded and hurriedly backed out, shutting the door and huffing out a breath. "Way to win the awkward award, Abigail." She muttered, sighing and heading back to the coffee maker.

Garrett exited the Commissioner's office as she was tossing the used filter and grinds. He stopped, a funny smirk on his face.

"What?" She frowned.

"Being overly hospitable won't make him stay, you know."

Garrett's smile grew but Abbey froze, glancing around to make sure no one heard him. "That's not what that was about." She defended.

"Really?" Garrett checked his watch, "When's the last time you offered to refill the coffee in there after 2pm?"

She opened her mouth but he stalled her with an upheld hand, "When there _wasn't_ some ongoing crisis?"

She snapped her mouth shut and glared back at him.

His grin softened and he tilted his head, "Come on, let's take a walk."

She clenched her teeth and glanced back at the office, hesitating. "Don't worry about him." Garrett brushed off, "Come on."

She relented, following him down the stairs to his office.

"This really bothers you, doesn't it?" He questioned, leading the way into his cramped space.

She shook her head, "Like I said, he's earned the right to go out on his own terms."

"But it has ripple effects." He continued for her, "Some of which mean personal ramifications for you."

"You too." She looked up, "How much money did you turn down from Jim Voutay _just_ last month?" She shook her head, "And you stayed because he asked you to. Wouldn't you be bothered if now it turns out he wants to leave?"

"I don't think he wants to leave." Garrett replied slowly.

Abbey frowned "But earlier, you…"

He shrugged, dropping into his chair, "I think he hates the political side of the job."

"Well that's not new." She started to lower herself into his guest chair but was halted by a large stack of paper.

"No." Garrett gestured for her to move the stack to his desk, "But the Mayor was harsh on Frank for not publicly endorsing him in the election this summer and it's coming around in dividends."

She nodded, slowly sitting, "Things are worse than normal with City Hall."

"Right." He gestured, "You add the crap with DA and Erin, plus Frank feeling responsible for his kids getting flak from people like Potter and Guerrero…"

"And the general attitude toward the department…" Abbey added, thinking back to the unconvincing way the Commissioner shrugged off the incident at Columbia.

"Exactly" Garrett nodded. "I don't think Frank has any clue what he'd do with himself if he retired but his pride has taken a hell of a beating these last few months and I don't think he's likely to blink in whatever game the Mayor is playing."

Abbey nodded thoughtfully.

"There's nothing we can do to help him through this." Garrett cautioned, eyeing her expression.

"I don't presume as much." She shrugged and stood. "But it's my job to make sure he can do _his_ job as long as he's still in that office."

Garrett's eyes narrowed, "What are you thinking?"

"Nothing." She smiled sweetly, "Thanks for the chat."

She left Garrett puzzled as she headed to her desk.

Picking up her notes from the morning she pulled up the email from one of the Mayor's advisors requesting a meeting early next week. She smirked and replied with meeting options in December and January. She then reviewed her todo list and moved non-urgent requests from City Hall to the bottom of her priorities.

"Playing games works two ways." She muttered.

* * *

"I'm just saying, we have procedures in place for a reason." Abbey lectured the group of administrative staffers assembled in the 7th floor briefing room the following Monday.

"There have been too many miscommunications and dropped balls the last few months. It may seem like minor details here, but everything we do supports the men and women on the street and no one wants a tragedy to occur because a memo didn't get passed along to the right department in time." She looked around the somber room, "Understand?"

Everyone nodded.

"Good." She smiled, "Alright, we're approaching the holidays and everyone is going to want to take time off but we can't be too understaffed so make sure you check the common calendar, _before_ getting approval from your direct superior. And finally, Ronnie, your boss has that big meet with the FBI next week, if you need extra help prepping, just ask and we can get a few extra hands over to the 8th floor."

"Alright, that's it for me. Any questions before we disperse?"

A smattering of hands went up and she nodded to Chris Caswell from the Special Assistant's office.

He lowered his hand and swallowed before asking, "Can you give us any insight as to what's going on with the Commissioner?"

Abbey tensed, forcing on a smile, "He's got a relatively light schedule this week, and we're working on the plans for his visit to Dublin next month and the reciprocal trip from the Irish this spring."

"That's not what he meant." Rachel Stoffey refuted.

"Yeah." Anthony Mitchell added, "Is he looking to resign or what?"

"And if he does which of our jobs are safe?" Tim Greene piled on.

Abbey sighed as the room all began speaking at once.

"Stop it." She held up both hands, "All of you."

She rolled her eyes, "Yes, there's been some tension between the PC and the Mayor; that shouldn't be a newsflash to anyone here." She scanned their faces and squared her shoulders, "And yes, there's been speculation on how much longer he'll continue to serve but that's all it is: speculation. Any time you all spend worrying is just detrimental distraction."

" _Especially_ ," She emphasized, "Because most of the people in this room will not have their jobs affected by a change in Commissioner. Keep doing good work for your bosses and enabling them to do good work for the department and 95% of this building will remain staffed exactly the same regardless of who is on the 14th floor, understand?"

Noone seemed satisfied but they didn't immediately rebuke her.

Slowly, Mateo Lopez raised his hand, "Do we have an estimate as to when IT will get around to the bandwith problem on the sublevels?"

Abbey exhaled her relief at the standard question but before she could reply the door opened without a knock and the Commissioner leaned in. She blinked her surprise at his presence, "Sir?"

He hardly glanced at the rest of the room, "Detective, could I speak to you a moment when you're done?"

She nodded, "Of course." She looked to the man sitting to her left, "Greenberg, can you answer Lopez's question and field any others?"

"You got it." He nodded, stepping up into her place and flicking through his folder.

She gathered her own notebook and followed the Commissioner out the door, well aware that the eyes of the room were following her with interest.

As soon as the door closed behind her the Commissioner tilted his head, "It could have waited."

"Greenberg has it." She shrugged, "He knows everything I do."

Pressure pulled at the corner of the Commissioner's lips, "I doubt that."

She shrugged again and the Commissioner inhaled, the hint of a smile flitting away, "I was just with city council."

"Yes, Sir." She nodded, knowing full well where he had been; anticipating he'd be there longer was why she had scheduled the monthly staff meeting when she did.

"Carlton Miller from the Mayor's office was there." He added. His tone was light but his eyes narrowed at her, waiting for a reaction.

When her face remained impassive he sighed and began walking toward the elevator. "He cornered me about some meeting he'd been trying to schedule for this week."

Abbey blinked, remembering that Miller was whom she had brushed off on Friday after Garrett pointed out that the political games coming from the Mayor's office was factoring in the Commissioner's uncertainty to stay on.

"It seems you had told him I was unavailable this week and pushed him back to next month." He waited for her to join him in the elevator before pushing the button for the 14th floor. "I found that odd because I had been under the impression there wasn't much going on this week." He looked to her, "Am I reading the calendar wrong, Baker?"

She looked up and clenched her jaw, "No, Sir."

He nodded and she followed him as he stepped out of the elevator and entered the office.

"I didn't think so." He grimaced and shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it on to the chair. "But it didn't make sense because the other explanation was that you were shielding me from meetings with the Mayor's office." He watched as Abbey automatically picked up the jacket and shook it out.

She hesitated as she hung the familiar, old trench on the hook. She took a deep breath and turned back to face him.

Contrary to her expectations, his eyes were soft. "Baker...what's going on?"

She looked down for a beat, forcing herself to look back up, "Counterplay?"

"...Counterplay?" He repeated. "For what?"

She shrugged and looked back down.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "Okay." He gestured to the other side of the office, "I think we should probably take a seat."

She grimaced and moved to the far arm chair across from the Commissioner.

"If I can summarize," He leaned forward in the low chair, forearms braced on his knees, "You decided you've had enough of the bull coming out of the Mayor's office and decided on a little passive resistance by making it difficult for them to schedule meetings or get responses from this office. Is that about right?" He tilted his head until he made eye contact.

She nodded, "More or less."

He stared at her for a long moment, pressure again pushing the edge of his lips up though he visibly worked to smother the smile. "I appreciate the effort, but you know that whatever is between the mayor and me isn't your battle to fight."

"I'm not going to sit back and do nothing." She pulled her chin up and clenched her jaw, "It's gone too far."

He blinked, "Meaning?"

"Meaning," She straightened, trying to cover the speed with which her heart was racing, "That if his actions are contributing to you considering putting in your papers then that's too far." She shook his head, "His office has been playing games with this office and with the DCPI's office since August." She exhaled and looked down, "It didn't seem right for them to continue to get priority service."

He sighed and leaned back in the chair, thumb going under his chin and forefinger resting on his mustache as he considered her for a long moment. She took a slow breath, and stilled, trying not to show how badly she wanted to shake, her anger toward the mayor and nervousness at having to spell out her motivations combining to create a yawning pit in her stomach.

He finally blew a long breath and dropped his hand, "You should know more than anyone that the mayor isn't the only reason I'm hesitating."

Her eyes flicked to his.

He gave a sad grin, "How many of my resignation letters have you shred over the years?"

"Just one, Sir." She replied, "I burned the other."

He snorted a chuckle, "Okay…" He shook his head, "But those were just the ones I managed to write down. You know it's been a reoccurring thought."

"I know it's never been easy." She agreed cautiously.

Her eyes traced his face, registering the changes. His dark hair was now speckled with grey and in the past few years he begun to wear it less crisp than the strict military cut he had when she first met him. He was softer and sat heavier than he used to, with shoulders not as stiff, as if the cumulative weight of his years of service bore down on him.

"You already know I never wanted this job." He looked at her, "And that was a decade ago; a long time."

"I remember." She nodded, recalling their conversation on the park bench 10 years and one month ago. "The Mayor wanted to announce by 4 and at 2 you were still uncertain."

He smiled and bounced his eyebrows, "So I guess the current impasse with Poole isn't really anything new; maybe I have a habit of pushing Mayors to the edge."

Abbey frowned thinking back to his honest reluctance during that conversation what seemed like a lifetime ago, "Do you regret it? Taking the job?"

His eyes jumped to hers and his smile faded. He looked away and his mouth hung open a beat before he answered.

"No…" The word was quiet and slow, "I don't…regret…? No." His mouth tensed and he refocused on her with a shadow of a shrug, "There have been times when I've wondered what would have happened had I not taken this job...Had Mary lived and I had more incentive to retire someday...Had Jamie not signed up after Joe...Had Poole not asked me to stay on...Had I not gotten to work with the people I work with..."

He looked down, "I never get far with my imagenings, I always end up caught in the fact that there are 35,000 cops out there who give up comforts and holidays and weekends and evenings with their family so they can put their lives on the line." He sighed. "I can't justify abandoning them because I'm tired of politicians acting like politicians."

"We've had other commissioners before and will have others in the future." Abbey furrowed her brow, "The rank and file like and respect you, Sir, but it's not abandoning them as long as your replacement is a decent person. It's unreasonable to solely carry the responsibility for every man and woman on the force."

He looked at her, this time when he smiled it was sad and self-effacing.

"Between you and me?" He leaned forward, "I hate this job."

She snickered, "That's not a very well kept secret."

"Suppose not." He exhaled, frowning, "I don't know. Maybe I'm just romanticizing a time that never really existed. When I was a cop doing cop's work." His eyes flicked to a familiar framed picture on the shelf, "In some ways I'm envious of my youngest." He paused, eyes scanning the photo, "Sometimes…" He looked back, "I feel like I get so caught up in aspects of the job that I don't actually get to _do_ the job. To make a difference."

He sighed and leaned back in the chair, "And the way things are now I don't know if I have the capacity to bridge the divide growing between the department and citizenry." He shook his head, "Maybe staying on is actually a _disservice_. Maybe the race or gender of whomever is in this chair does matter. Maybe if someone like Al Siguerra came in he could see some nuance I don't and guide this department back to working effectively with the people."

Abbey tilted her head, "When _was_ that, exactly?"

He looked at her, "When was what?"

" _When_ did the department work hand in hand with the people?" She straightened, "In all the years you were a cop did the people of East New York ever cooperate with the police? In the Bitterman houses and other projects? In Washington Heights? In Brighton Beach? Or half the Bronx?"

"What are you saying?" He narrowed his eyes.

She shrugged, "I think there's some reality to the fact that as a beat cop and a detective you got to see the real, tangible impact you had on people's lives that you don't from here." She bit her lip, "But what I think you're misremembering is the relationship between half this city and the department." She swallowed, "Yes, Bay Ridge and Staten Island and Midtown historically didn't have issues with police but there have always been neighborhoods where the cops were never welcome."

She sighed, "The only difference now is that folks aren't staying quiet about their fear and mistrust and because of the internet and social media, their narrative has caught the attention of white middle and upper-class wannabe activists…" She paused, frowning, "Is what happened at Columbia part of this?"

He brought a hand up and rubbed at the side of his neck, "I don't know." He rolled his lips, "I mean, it was fine, but honestly, it was worse than I expected. I thought there might be some signs and heckling..." He dropped the hand from his neck and gestured with it, "What it devolved into was disheartening. These are ivy league students, the future leaders of our nation…"

Abbey pursed her lips, "Being bratty college students railing against authority figures?" She smirked, "What were students at Columbia doing when you were their age back in the early 70s?"

He snorted, "I guess I just don't understand some people's need to act out."

She smiled fondly, "You know what though? Those kids at Columbia would be the first to call for the cops for help if something were to happen." She shook her head, "They aren't the ones you need to worry about. The ones to worry about are the folks in Brownsville who watched a man be burned alive and no one called 9-1-1 because they distrust the department so much." She sighed, "Unfortunately, that's nothing new."

Reluctantly he bobbed his head in agreement, "Just because it's not new doesn't mean I should settle for not making progress."

Abbey frowned but couldn't counter his point.

The Commissioner exhaled and his cheeks lifted with a tight, closed lip grin. "Look, I appreciate you hashing this out and your attempt at showing support." He fisted his hands together, "I know that my indecision creates a whole lot of doubt for you and others, like Greenberg and Sid and all the Deputy Commissioners and their staff." He locked eyes with her, "I'm sorry about that."

She waived away his apology, "It's not about me or any of the rest of us, Sir. I'll tell you what I've told the DCPI and Lieutenant Gormley, Lord knows you've earned the right to decide when to be done." She tried smiling, "I just hope that when that time comes that it's because you're ready and you _want_ to retire, not because you're feeling forced out."

"Thank you." He nodded, "I still…" He grimaced, "Just don't know..." The look he shot her was apologetic.

"But know, you don't need to worry." He gave a stiff nod, "Anyone coming in after me would be insane to not want to keep you at that desk; but if they didn't or if you wanted something different I'll do everything in my power to make sure you're somewhere you want to be, doing work you want to be doing."

Abbey clenched her jaw shut, not trusting herself to do more than breathe stiltedly through her nose.

The Commissioner stood from his chair, "Sergeant Walkoski is due to retire in a few months meaning the armory in Brooklyn is going to need a new supervisor." He shrugged, "Take the exam and by March you could be Sergeant Baker with your own command a little closer to home? You might want to consider that, regardless...just something to think about."

"Ye…" She cleared her throat, "ehm, Yes, Sir."

He smiled but whatever he was about to say next was cut off by the ringing of the phone. Abbey stood and picked up the extension by the couch, "Commissioner's Office, Detective Baker speaking."

" _Hi, Detective Baker! It's Manny Francisco_."

"Hi Officer." She grinned into the phone, "I can put you through to the Commissioner."

" _Oh, no."_ Manny stopped her, _"I don't want to bother him, I just wanted to let him know that Olivia had the baby."_

"Congratulations!" Abbey grinned broadly. "What's the name?"

 _"Well, we kind of want to check with him first, but we'd like to name him Francis."_

Abbey's breath caught in her throat and she blinked. Looking up to see the Commissioner looking at her quizzically she was struck with an idea, "Well, that seems like something you'd want to take care of sooner than later." She smiled, "Is Olivia doing well? Do you think she'd be up for a visitor?"

" _They are both doing fantastic!"_ She could hear the new father's grin through the line, " _And I really don't want impose but if the Commissioner wanted to stop by we'd be thrilled, of course_."

Abbey nodded, "I think something can be arranged. Again, Congratulations!"

" _Thank you!"_

She placed the phone back into the cradle and grinned to the PC, "The Francisco's just had their baby."

The Commissioner straightened and smiled, "Well isn't that great. Sounds like everyone is happy and healthy?"

"According to Manny both mother and child are doing fantastic." She confirmed. She took a breath, "Unless you ended up scheduling that meeting with Carlton Miller, you _do_ have a light schedule this afternoon." She shrugged, "Maybe you'd like to go visit the baby?"

He narrowed his eyes at her but relaxed a moment later and smiled, "Seems like a better plan then reading the union's budget revisions." He grabbed his jacket from the hook, shrugging into it.

"And regarding all of this." He gestured between the two seats they had just occupied, "I promise not to keep you in the dark much longer."

She smiled, "I assume we'll all know whenever _you_ know."

He huffed, "That's about right." He paused at the door and turned on his heal, returning to his desk to grab a cigar out of the box he kept there, "Can't forget about this. Some traditions…"

She smiled with a roll of her eyes, "Of course, Sir."


	68. Bygones

_A/N - Takes place after 'Back in The Day'._

* * *

Abbey barely refrained from rolling her eyes as she sat across from her boss, sketching out the upcoming schedule. "The fact that you're going camping over your birthday doesn't change the fact people around here will want to celebrate it."

"Good for them." The Commissioner retorted.

She frowned but remained quiet, making a note in the margin of her notebook, looking up as the door opened with out a knock.

"Frank?!" Garrett huffed into the room, "You had the lawyers drop the injunction?!"

The PC grimaced and made eye contact with Abbey.

"Frank…" Garrett sighed, "This book..."

"Is true." Frank cut him off, "It may not be the perfect narrative but it's how I got to where I am."

"Well that's _just great_." Garrett tossed up his hands, "What am I supposed to do with that?"

Frank shrugged, "Isn't that your _job_ to figure out?"

Garrett glared back.

Frank rolled his eyes, "How about say my younger days have given me the wisdom and perspective that _so_ benefits the department today."

"Perfect." Garrett shook his head, "Potter will really eat that up."

"Maybe it's not about Potter." Frank retaliated, "Maybe some consideration should be made about how the cops on the street see their commissioner."

"Frank. Not this again…" Garrett grumbled.

As the two men continued to spar Abbey nudged the plain blue publisher's copy of the manuscript off the desk and flipped it open.

~.~

 _'1970's New York was a city in decline. A decade of mismanagement had left law enforcement in tatters and the city's streets were a haven for the drugged, corrupt and criminal class. This is the story of what happened when 3 Vietnam vets and a street kid decide to join the ranks of the NYPD and stand against the tide of crime. The only way to get through the days was to live fast and hard. Our Captain called us 'The Mad Dogs.'_

 _~.~_

"Baker…?"

Abbey looked up to see the Commissioner staring at her; his and Garrett's disagreement apparently settled.

She attempted to blink innocently, "I just figured if it's going to be published anyway…"

"He's going to make some changes…" The Commissioner shifted in his chair.

"Really?" Garrett's eyebrows rose. "That's good! What'd you get him to drop?"

"Don't get excited," He warned, "Just somethings about Mary. There'll still be plenty for you to be mad about."

"Oh…" Garrett frowned, disappointed, then, ""Well, perhaps he'd be open to making other changes…" He tilted his head, eyed falling on the book, intrigued.

Frank rolled his eyes, "Leave it, Garrett."

"But…" Garrett continued to push.

"No…"

The bickering picked back up and Abbey tuned them out, flipping the book open to the next page and skimming for a familiar name.

~.~

 _'…Unlike me, the final member of our group and ultimately my partner, Frank Reagan, wasn't a draftee; he volunteered. Regardless of how we got over there, and in what branch and rank we served, our experience coming home was the same. Our fellow New Yorkers who had watched the war on their TV sets didn't want anything to do with us. To them, a man in uniform was the embodiment of the reports of massacres and napalm they had read in the paper._

 _Upon landing back in the US, Franky, who had broken femur in combat, had to walk nearly 14 miles from JFK airport to his neighborhood in Brooklyn because he couldn't hitch a ride in uniform and didn't even have enough change for the bus. It was an NYPD black & white cruiser that finally stopped and offered a ride. Later he'd recount that story as the moment he knew he'd join the department instead of reenlisting with the USMC because no matter the situation, when every other citizen was looking out for themselves, the NYPD always had this city's back…'_

 _~.~_

"Ahem…"

The sound of a throat clearing pulled Abbey's attention and she looked up to see the PC's attention back on her. She guiltily bit her lip and laid the book back on the edge of the desk.

"Sorry..." She winced.

He stared back, lips firmed, eyes narrowed. He leaned back in his chair and gestured to Garrett, "Give us a moment?"

"Huh?" The DCPI glanced to Abbey wide eyed, "Oh, uh, yeah. Okay." He shot her a sympathetic grimace before making his exit.

She clenched her molars and looked back to the Commissioner whose studious gaze had not wavered. Once the door clicked shut he shifted forward, leaning his elbows on the desk. He picked up the book and flipped lightly through it, pursing his lips.

"I was just skimming through." She filled the silence.

He looked at her over the rims of his glasses, "You seemed pretty focused."

She swallowed her instinct to wince, "Just got caught up in one bit."

Her stared back at her, waiting. She sighed, "Did you really have to walk home with a broken leg when you came back from the Marines?"

He huffed and looked to the ceiling for a beat, "Lenny exaggerates. It's not like I was still on crutches and I only made it to East Flatbrush when I was picked up."

"That still has to have been nearly 10 miles." She retorted automatically, mapping the geography in her head.

He shrugged and looked to the book, flipping to the page she had been reading and skimming the lines himself. Giving a sigh he looked back to her, "You really want to read this?"

She stilled. Uncertain of the right answer she made a short shrug of her shoulder.

He frowned, "Why?"

She hesitated, opening her mouth then closing it again as she considered the question. "Curious?"

She winced at the inadequacy but he smiled. "I guess that's an honest answer."

The Commissioner rolled his lips, tapped twice on the book's cover "I can admit my judgement may be clouded here." He gestured with the book and held it out to her, "Go ahead, read it. Then let me know if you think I should be listening more to Garrett."

Abbey swallowed and nodded, accepting the manuscript, fingers tightening around the bound paper. "Okay…Thank you, Sir."

"And Baker," He waited for her to meet his eyes before he cautioned with insistence, "Don't show my kids."

* * *

 _~.~_

 _'I hadn't thought I'd be more miserable than I was during Basic Training but the Academy really pushed that. The Cadets had nothing in common but the chips on our shoulders and most instructors were more interested in asserting their authority then offering a guiding hand. It was up to us to identify the few instructors who were there for the right reasons and which of our fellow cadets we could rely on._

 _Barry O'Rourke and I gravitated toward one another right away but it was the opposite with Reagan. He was standoffish, sitting by himself for meals and rarely answering questions with more than a few syllables. Word got around that he had gone to college, was an officer in the corps and that his father was department brass. Noone knew any details but it was enough for the guys to assume that his behavior was due to some superiority complex and they quickly set about putting him in his place._

 _He was a physically imposing person so instead of instigating a confrontation they let their feelings be known in other ways; not-quite-accidentally knocking over his tray or dropping coffee and staining his gear. A series of pranks the first week left his trainers hopelessly knotted, his locker combination changed and shower towel missing. Through all of it he never did more than cast a glare at the chuckling crowd, so it was a surprise the day he knocked O'Rourke's teeth out._

 _Barry was the opposite of Frank; small in stature but a firey mouth and short fuse. During a training round early in the second week, Martin Perez had efficiently pinned him but O'Rourke claimed he was the victim of a cheap shot. The two began to scuffle, abandoning formal training and going at one another like two kids on the sidewalk._ _Martin was one of only 4 black cadets in the class and it didn't take long for their scuffle to turn into a melee of others urging O'Rourke on._

 _Perez was a better fighter but was quickly overwhelmed and may had gotten seriously hurt had Reagan not joined the scrum. People pushing to the fight suddenly found themselves being yanked back by their collars and unceremoniously tossed aside. Realizing the target of their frustrations had joined the chaos, several cadets gleefully turned their attentions to Reagan and several smaller fights broke out. Eventually Reagan made it to his target and pulled O'Rourke back with one hand, grounding himself in front of Perez. Barry was incensed and continued to lunge so Frank let loose with a left hook that dropped Barry like a sack of potatoes and left two of his teeth on the mat._

 _I wish I could say I watched this from a distance but I was one of the first people Frank pulled out of the fight. I landed wrong and ended in the infirmary getting my wrist wrapped the same time Reagan was getting stitches and Martin and Barry were icing their concussions._

 _The room was quiet until, true to form, Barry broke the silence, "What the hell, Reagan?"_

 _The nurse placing stitches above his eye prevented Franky from turning to look at Barry but he shrugged, "He's a Marine."_

 _Martin sat up from where he had been lying. "Semper Fi!"_

 _"Semper Fi." Frank smiled._

 _"Alright, alright. I get it. War buddies gotta look out for one another." Barry whined._

 _Perez rolled his eyes, "We ain't war buddies man. I met him a week ago; same as you."_

 _"I just saw his tattoo." Franky pointed out the Semper Fi on Perez's bicep, "Marines stand with Marines. Which is what I_ _thought_ _the cops were about too."_

 _I had been one of the ones most put off by Reagan's superiority act so I wasn't about to swallow his line of unity. "That's a lot of talk for someone who thinks he's better than the rest of us."_

 _I'll never forget the look of confusion he shot me as the nurse finished with his sutures and stepped away. "I don't know what you're talking about."_

 _"You. You been acting like you're better then everyone."_ Perez gestured, " _Not talking with anyone at chow an all that."_

 _"I'm studying." Frank blinked back to Perez then me and O'Rourke. "My old man is a Lieutenant, my grandfather walked a beat for 15 years. My mother's brother was a cop, my father's cousin was a cop…I can't be the only one in my family who flunks out because I can't keep the damn civil ordinances straight."_

 _We all stared at him in silent disbelief until O'Rourke erupted into laughter, bringing a hand to his injured jaw, "You…ow, ow…you can't keep up...ow...in class? I thought you...ow...went to college!"_

 _"For three semesters." Frank practically growled back, an angry, embarrassed, flush reddening his neck, "Doesn't mean anything."_

 _"Aw, Man." Perez joined Barry's laughter. "We all thought you was snubbing everyone; You ain't ever talk to anyone."_

 _"I don't have much to say." Frank defended._

 _"What about yesterday morning before PT?" O'Rourke questioned, "Studying isn't why you were just standing back judging us while we were all talking about our girls…"_

 _Frank scowled, "My girlfriend just dumped me." He ground his teeth, "Stuck with me through 2 years in Asia. I was going to propose after the academy but apparently becoming a cop's wife wasn't her plan."_

 _"Oh man, that is rough!" Perez sympathized._

 _"So; let me get this straight –" I leaned forward toward the guy I had spent the last week resenting, "You leave a career path in the Marines because NYPD is what your family does. Your girlfriend dumps you for that same reason, you struggle in the classes and then all the other cadets keep pranking you and you have no idea why?"_

 _Frank nods, "Pretty much." He shrugged, "Part of the reason I didn't have a problem throwing punches today." He glanced to O'Rourke, "Sorry by the way."_

 _"Don't be." Barry waived him off, "I had it coming. Not the first time."_

 _"Well if you're going to keep getting into it with people, you gotta keep your hands up and not lean into it." Frank pointed out._

 _Barry stared back at him for a long moment until Frank winced and shrugged, "Just a suggestion."_

 _"Yeah…" Barry pulled the ice from his cheek, a scheming expression in place, "You know what Reagan, I've got an idea…Lenny here is real good with the law stuff. How about you and Perez teach Lenny and I how to fight like Marines and Lenny can help you pass the book learning stuff?"_

 _Frank's eyes narrowed. "What's Perez get out of this arrangement?"_

 _Barry grinned, best he could, blood still trickling out the side of his mouth, "You two pal with me and no one will give you a hard time for the rest of the Academy. Promise you that." He bounced his eyebrows, "I can even help ease your lady problems."_

 _Frank looked to Perez who shrugged, "I ain't about to turn down anything that makes this easier."_

 _"Alright..." Frank nodded, "I guess it's a plan." …_

~.~

"Abbey?"

Abbey closed the book and blinked back to the present, looking for the source of her name in the mostly empty corner of City Hall. She smiled when she recognized Eddie Janko approaching her.

"Hey Eddie." She quickly buried the book in her bag and stood from the dark wooden bench, "You looking for Jamie?"

"Yeah." The shorter woman nodded, "I was across the street giving a statement to one of the ADAs and I knew the EDP council meeting was wrapping up soon so I came looking for him." Her eyes flicked over Abbey, "Why aren't you in there?"

"I'm not part of the advisory council." She shook her head, "I just need to talk with Lieutenant Gormley when they're done; I was grabbing a few minutes to read."

"Anything good?" She peaked at the bag.

"Just something by an old cop reveling in the bad old days." Abbey brushed off.

"You should tell Jamie." Eddie stopped peaking, clearly not interested, "He loves that stuff."

Abbey grinned, "I'd think he'd get enough of it on Sundays."

"Right?!" Eddie's eyes lit up, "Though, his grandfather is pretty ah-mazing; I don't really go in for the old cop story macho stuff like Jamie does but Henry has some great stories."

Abbey grinned fondly, "Yeah. He's pretty good."

Eddie's grin faded and she glanced to the closed door.

"What?" Abbey tilted her head.

"Just thinking about how much Jamie looks up to his Grandfather…" Eddie bit her lip and sat on the bench, "When you were trying to move to Detective, did it create friction with your partner?"

Abbey sighed and sat back down, "Not really; but I didn't what you and Jamie have. I lost my first partner on 9/11, my next partner ended up going out on disability and my last 6 months on patrol I rode with a few different people but didn't work with anyone long enough for them to care about my next career move." She looked Eddie over, "What's this about?"

Eddie didn't make eye contact, "Nothing, just…sometimes to get something you want it requires giving something else up and it's not easy."

"Jamie doesn't want you to work on promotion?" Abbey questioned. That didn't sound like the Jamie she knew.

"It's not really that…" Eddie sighed, "I know he doesn't put himself out there because he's self-conscious about his Dad so sometimes I do a little advocating on his behalf. I volunteered us for a stakeout…you know, take an opportunity to show what we can do. He wasn't thrilled that I didn't ask him first, and I should have, but then he goes and leaves the stakeout to answer another call." She shook her head, "We've talked about it and we're good but I keep wondering if there's something else going on, if subconsciously he wanted to disrupt it because he's resentful I want to leave or something."

Abbey blinked. "That's a big assumption. Has he said anything like that?"

Eddie shrugged, "We disagree on how to handle some things; he tends to get angry at people who are bad at their job and that's fine unless it's someone who outranks us." She sighed, "For a quiet guy he sure doesn't mind mouthing off sometimes and when I try to remind him that what he does impacts me too, he always jumps straight to assuming I'm trying to make excuses to ride with a new partner."

"Well, that's probably a bit of a jump but you work those things out as they come along?"

"Yeah." Eddie nodded. "Just makes me think _he_ thinks I want to leave _him_."

Abbie shrugged, "I really don't know what to tell you Eddie. I don't talk to Jamie enough to have any insight for you." She leaned back, "What was the call that he responded to in the middle of the stakeout?"

Eddie took a deep breath and looked to her hands fiddling on her knees, "A 10-13."

Abbey straightened and stared back at her.

The younger woman looked up, wide eyed and shaking her head, speaking fast, "But it ended up being a 90X and there were other units in the area _and_ we were under strict instructions to stay put and we ended up getting the guy. It was all a lot of noise for nothing."

Abbey shook her head, "No, Eddie, you're reading this one wrong."

Eddie slumped back against the wall.

Abbey snorted, "And your body language says that you know it."

"Look. It's not that I don't understand the importance of a 10-13." Eddie looked back up, pushing her blonde locks away from her face, "I just considered all the factors and made a judgement call. There were other units in the area who could respond and we were helping to catch a _known felon_."

Abbey grimaced, "No, I don't know if you _do_ understand the importance of a 10-13." She exhaled, "Considering who your partner is I'm surprised he was willing to just talk it out and be fine if you still don't see what you did was wrong."

Eddie frowned, "What do you mean 'considering who my partner is'? Because of his Dad? Jamie's mostly by the book but he doesn't…"

"No." Abbey cut her off. "Nothing to do with the Commissioner." She firmed her jaw, "Think about what a 10-13 means. Eddie, Jamie was a 10-13 when he was taking fire and his partner was dying in his arms." She shook her head, "You may have called a 10-13 before but take it from me, you never forget the time when you call it because it literally means life and death."

She inhaled, forcing herself to calm and remain steady, "Imagine if it were _you_ , holding your bleeding partner in your hands and you find out someone else didn't respond because they were busy impressing a detective and assumed others would get to you." She pierced Eddie with a hard look, "How would you feel about that person?"

Eddie broke eye contact and looked down, her face pale. "I just…so often that's not the case…people call 10-13 when it really should be an 85 all the time."

"I know." Abbey nodded, "That's not a new thing. And neither are false reports." She shook her head, "But it's there for a good reason and you need to treat it like every time could be one of those times." She patted the book in her bag, "The chapter I just read was about how cops need to look out for one another. Not 'blue wall of silence' type of stuff but day to day loyalty. That's important to our ability to function."

She bit her lip and looked to Eddie, whose face was still downturned, "Look, I'm sorry if I'm being harsh but I've also been on the wrong end of a 10-13 call and I owe everything to the cops that responded." She sighed, "You've been on the job for less than 3 years; why are you rushing? I know you're a good cop but you can't let your ambition blind you to the right way to do the job."

Eddie didn't move. After a long tense silence she muttered "Damnit." and wiped at her eyes as the door to the conference room opened and the various mental health and policing professionals exited to the hallway; Jamie and Sid the last to leave.

"Hey." Jamie tilted his head upon reaching his partner, immediately sizing up the situation "You okay?"

"Yeah." She picked up her head and gave a weak smile, "Don't worry about it."

"Yeah?" He questioned.

"Yeah," She nodded with more vigor, "I'm just annoyed you took so long – I'm starving and the Taproom's happy hour is almost over."

An indulgent grin crossed Jamie's face, letting his concern drop, "Alright. Alright." He handed a folder to Gormley, "You want this, Lieutenant?"

"Sure thing." Sid accepted the folder nodding to Eddie, "How ya doing Officer Janko? You keeping your partner in line?"

Her smile faltered, "I don't know about that, Sir. I maybe the one who needs to be held in line."

Jamie's brow furrowed but the Lieutenant brushed off her equivocation, "Nah." He jostled Jamie with a teasing elbow, "Only one of you has ended up in my office for mouthing off to a superior officer." He shook his head, "Last thing we need is another Danny Reagan running around."

Jamie smiled, "I thought you said my brother was the best Detective you've ever worked with."

Sid rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, yeah; I ran all the way to 1 PP just to get away from him and he still manages to be a pain in my ass."

Abbey chuckled and he looked to her, "Speaking of HQ, what brings you by, Abigail?"

She winced, "The Commissioner wants us to stop by the DMO's office to see if you can get some answers regarding the Winter Jam in Central Park."

"Great." Sid rolled his eyes, looking to the two officers, "You two look out for one another; the Detective and I are going to teach the Deputy Mayor how to respond to an email."

Abbey smirked and nodded to Jamie and Eddie and began to follow Sid, only to be halted by Eddie's hand on her arm.

"I just..." The shorter blond bit her lip, "Thanks."

~.~

 _'Over the next 6 months I learned more from those 3 men then I had from anyone in my life. Not just how to be a cop, but how to trust someone and be willing rely on someone in a way that defines brotherhood. Upon academy graduation O'Rourke ended up at the 27th precinct, Perez at the 35th, Reagan at the 12th and I at the 25th but we weren't alone. By that point we knew we needed one another and did what we needed to do to support one another from a distance. That changed one day in September when Reagan showed up at the 25th having been transferred. I had no hesitation before submitting my request to partner up. He may not have been as experienced as others in the precinct but I trusted him and trust will always be the number one most valuable asset when it comes to who you ride with.  
_

* * *

 _A/N - Just going to take a second to explain some headcannon things  
-Eddie was really gung-ho about becoming a Detective in a few episodes but she doesn't really bring it up again after this incident so I figure someone sat her down a little more directly than Jamie did in the show and convinced her to pump the brakes a little and reconsider everything.  
-Sometimes Selleck has a slight limp so I'm blaming a bad leg break when Reagan was in the USMC  
-The content of the book will come back for at least 1 more chapter_


	69. Compunction

A/N: A little writers block + broken finger = a little bit of a hiatus. Thanks for your patience! This takes place in the beginning of 6.14, Road to Hell but references Stomping Ground and includes another excerpt from the Back In The Day book.

* * *

 _~.~_

 _Not long into his time at the 2-5 Reagan came in to the precinct steaming._

 _I'm not typically one to pry into a fellow's personal business but we were slated for a double tour so I went up to him, "Franky, what's eating you?"_

 _He didn't give me an answer right away, just shook his head, clenching his jaw even tighter._

 _I rolled my eyes, "Alright, fine. Keep it to yourself but I'm not getting into a car with that attitude so I'm going to ask Sarge if I can ride with Timmons and you can take a solo foot post."_

 _He slammed the locker door and glared at me, "My old man."_

 _"He finally kick your sorry ass out of his home?" I smirked._

 _Frank was not amused,_ _"Guess who's the next deputy inspector for Manhattan Patrol?"_

 _Reagan's old man had been department brass for years but this would be the first time that Henry would be directly in my and Frank's chain of command._

 _"Congratulations?"_

 _Frank kicked open the locker room door, "Not funny."_

 _"Maybe it'll be a good thing." I suggested even though I knew better. Reagan senior wasn't likely to use any of that old school bending of the rules to make life easy for his son._

 _"It's a nightmare." Frank muttered as he followed me in for roll call._

 _"Tell me about it." Timmons agreed as we passed._

 _Frank froze and turned on his heel, all of his previous ire channeled into the glare he leveled at Timmons, "What the hell you mean by that?"_

 _Timmons was the palest guy I've ever worked with but I swear he lost a few shades in that moment as he unexpectedly found himself the target of Reagan's temper. "Ju-ju-just that it's a real tragedy. The Lewis girl."_

 _"_ _Oh." Frank deflated at the misunderstanding but only for a beat, "Wait, what? Lewis girl? You mean Maisie? What about her?"_

 _Maisie Lewis was a 9 year old girl whose mother wasn't around and father worked long hours. She spent her days playing on her stoop and greeting each person who walked by. In a neighborhood still marred by the riots of '64, Maisie was one the few smiles we saw each day._

 _That morning a stray bullet had taken her, right off the stoop that had been her throne._

 _For the first 3 hours of our shift Reagan and I stood perimeter on that scene. We had both experienced war and had a certain level of numbness for the violence seen on the job but neither of us could bring ourselves to look at the small pool of blood on the steps._

 _What was almost harder to stomach was the detectives seeming resigned to the fact that Maisie was likely to end up in their pile of unsolved cases._

 _Once we were released from our detail Reagan and I decided to take it upon ourselves to find justice for Maisie._

 _We were on RMP patrol for the 2nd half of our double and after our meal we pulled up across from the corner where the 128_ _th_ _St Sookies spent their evenings slinging dope. The gang ran Masie's block and we knew they were involved in a large gun shipment that had come through the previous week._

 _"_ _You spook 'em, I'll catch one."_

 _Reagan and I bumped fists before he hopped out of the cruiser and jogged to the other end of the street. I peeled out and turned on the corner, full lights and sirens. The crew scattered; one right in to the waiting arms of my partner._

 _Frank clotheslined the banger and was pulling him up by the collar by the time I joined them and we tossed the punk in to the adjacent alley._

 _"_ _What you doin' man? We wasn't doin' nuffin!"_

 _"_ _No?" Reagan shoved him against the wall, "Then you can tell us who did 'do 'sumthin'.'"_

 _"_ _I ain't got nufin to say to no oinkers." The dealer tried to posture in Reagan's face only to be shoved down._

 _I pulled out my leather slapper, "You sure about that?" I smiled, "You ever hear of a wood shampoo?" Next to me Frank cracked his knuckles._

 _The gangbanger's attitude went limp and he pressed against the wall, "Whatchu lookin' to beat my ass for?"_

 _"We don't want to beat anyone." Frank reasoned, "We just want to know who killed the 9 year old girl on your block."_

 _"_ _I dunno! I heard it was some white boy showing off. That's it!"_

 _Frank and I rolled our eyes, "Some white boy flashing a gun in Harlem?" Frank shoved the banger again._

 _"How dumb do you think we are?" I punctuated my question with a few passes of my slapper, "Who did it? For real. We know it was one of you."_

 _At first the punk kept his mouth shut tight but it didn't seem to take too much more pressure before he folded. "It was me man, alright? Alright, just...stop, I'll tell you it was me. I did it. It was an accident, but I shot that little girl."_

 _I remember blinking at Reagan who was staring back in equal surprise. We were just looking for a lead, we didn't expect to get a confession._

 _Wiping the sweat from his brow, Reagan picked the punk up off the ground, spinning him so I could cuff him. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"_

 _We returned to the precinct as heroes. One of the detectives even toasted us with his flask. We were riding high and dreaming of commendations...until we met up with O'Rourke and Perez a couple evenings later._

 _"So you two buying my drinks tonight?" O'Rourke greeted us with a wide grin._

 _"And why would we do that?" Reagan asked, sliding onto a barstool._

 _Barry looked between the two of us, "Because turns out my collar this morning was the guy who shot that little girl up in your precinct."_

 _I blinked at Reagan then turned to Barry, "What the hell you talking about? We already got the guy."_

 _"Didja now?" Barry grinned, "'Cause the ballistics on the gun my guy was carrying matched the bullet."_

 _"What?" Frank stared at him._

 _"Yeah." Barry continued. "He's a member of the Westies. They're trying to elbow in on the dope game happening up in Harlem but he was too scared to go at night so he went in during the day and brandished his piece to try and get some local hoods to back off." He shrugged, "He copped to it. Part of his deal for the trafficking charges is that he gets protection from the brother's in the joint."_

 _O'Rourke had always been a big talker and we had heard our guy's confession with our own ears so Franky and I didn't accept O'Rourke's story at first. Perps lie during plea deals and guns passed hands around the city faster than the flu virus._

 _But in our guts we knew something was wrong, especially the next morning when we were called into the captain's office only to find Deputy Inspector Henry Reagan waiting for us with crossed arms._

 _"How'd you get the Jackson kid to cough up the confession on the Lewis case?" He started straight in._

 _Frank glanced to me then to his father, "Just standard interrogation tactics...Sir."_

 _Henry's eyebrows rose in disbelief, "Standard interrogation tactics? From a couple of patrolmen with less than 3 months on the job?"_

 _I looked to Frank but he kept his mouth shut tight._

 _Henry paced behind the captain's desk and picked up a folder, "You know it's interesting too, the statement Jackson gave has some issues. He says he was coming in from 7th but the detectives surmised that the shot came from the East and across the street." He shook his head, "And he claims his gun was a .45 but the round the ME pulled out was a .22." He looked to us, "Do you have any idea why he'd get all of that wrong?"_

 _"Look, Pop, I..."_

 _"Pop?" Henry cut Frank off, "Let's get one thing straight,_ _ **son**_ _, you're not some kid who broke a window in the kitchen and I'm not about to send you to your room." He stepped right up to Frank and somehow, despite the height difference, managed to look him in the eye, "You are a rookie patrolman whose recklessness has compromised a murder case."_

 _He stepped back, "Worse, solving this case could have gone a long way toward the department repairing its relationship with this neighborhood but_ _ **you**_ _undermined any hope of that by falsely accusing and beating the hell out of a resident of this neighborhood."_

 _Frank swallowed, "Deputy Inspector, Sir..." He spat out his father's title, "Jackson confessed. We roughed him up a little but didn't beat the hell out of him. We were just looking for a lead and he confessed. Why would he do that? How could we know he was lying?"_

 _Henry leaned against the desk, "The fact that you need to ask that question shows exactly how much more you need to learn." He sighed, "You're each getting a command discipline and after tour you are to report to the district attorney's office to give a_ _ **complete**_ _account of your interactions with George Jackson."_

 _He spared a parting glare before leaving us alone in the office to stare at one another and wonder what went wrong._

 _~.~_

"It's over."

Abbey looked up from the book as Jeremy Brenner from the Special Assistant's office entered the small kitchenette.

"Lieutenant Gormley is catching the Commissioner up to speed right now." Brenner was animated as he spoke.

She waited a beat before prompting, "Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. HNT breached the barricade and the perp gave himself up and the hostage is fine." He grinned, exuding pride as if he had been the one to talk the guy down.

"Good." She nodded, sliding the book into her bag and clearing her yogurt.

He watched with wide eyes, "That's it? Just Good?"

She frowned, "Yes. Everyone did their job and a situation was resolved as it should have been. It's good."

"I don't know." Brennan shrugged, "Seems pretty great to me." He tilted his head, "Aren't you excited?"

She exhaled. Brennan was smart and organized but he was very new and in her opinion he had too strong of an interest in shows and movies that portrayed cops as super heroes and glorified explosions and shoot outs. "Don't get me wrong, I'm really happy the hostage and everyone on the HNT is okay but it's frustrating to still be at work after 10pm because the perp created this whole scene to begin with."

"I get it." Brennan nodded, glancing to her hand, "You're married, right? Must be hard to have these late nights."

She refrained from rolling her eyes. She wasn't about to get into that Brian was probably still working himself given the time of the year. "Trust me. Married or not, these things begin to loose luster after a while."

Jeremy frowned as he followed her out of the kitchen, "It's still exciting, knowing that you're part of the machine that's making the tough calls and then waiting to hear how everything resolved...Not sure I could get tired of this."

Abbey just smiled. She didn't want to rob the guy of his enthusiasm; she knew loving the work was important to avoid burnout but she also knew he hadn't yet been through one of these long nights that ended in tragedy.

He practically bounced next to her as they took the stairs, "So what happens next?"

"Well, I'm going to check in with the boss and then head home." She shrugged, "Tomorrow the duty captain's report will make its way through the building and if commendations are appropriate they'll be awarded. Otherwise it will get filed away and we move on."

"Oh." He deflated.

She paused on the landing and looked at him, "Tonight was a good night. The boots on the street were able to peacefully resolve a potentially tragic situation because they had the training and equipment necessary and because the chain of command operated smoothly." This time when she smiled it was more genuine, "And that's what you and I did."

She took a breath, eyes looking to the ceiling as she collected her words, "I'm not excited; I'm satisfied. The work I've done enabling the Commissioner to do his job, and the work you've done allowing the Lieutenant to do his, is _why_ the training and resources are there for the guys who have to physically walk into these situations. Because Gormley was able to rely on you to keep the nonsense off his desk he was able to spend the day focused on this. _That's_ what you should be proud of - not many people are going to appreciate how having an efficient and organized desk saves lives, but tonight is an example of exactly how it does." She smirked, "So you want to see me really excited? Wait until next month when they roll out the new phone system."

Brenner settled thoughtfully, taking in her words. He exhaled and nodded, "I get that." He smiled, "I guess part of me still is just jealous of the action on the street."

"I know. And I do understand that too." She nodded, continuing up the stairs.

"I hear the new phones will have a direct connection to TARU." He grinned.

She smirked, "Not everyone's, but yeah, I'm pretty sure you and I will have that capability." She exhaled, "Would have been nice last week with the Detective Harrington thing."

"He called the PC?" Brenner blinked.

Abbey nodded, "And I patched in TARU but it took too long and they didn't get the trace in time."

"Damn." Brenner shook his head stopping as they reached his floor, "This is my stop. Good night Detective."

"'Night." She gave him a wave and continued up to the 14th floor.

She tried not to sigh wistfully. Recently it seemed like everyday there was someone new and green in the building. When she sat with the PC or Gormley she still felt young and relatively inexperienced and she had a hard time reconciling how it suddenly seemed she was the senior most member of the building's admins. In many ways she missed having professional peers who were older and more experienced than her.

She smiled at Nucifuro as she passed his desk; at least she could count on him not going anywhere.

With a weary exhale she dropped her bag next to her desk, straightened her blazer and knocked on the Commissioner's door, not waiting for a response before she opened it.

Within a beat she took in the empty desk and pivoted to find her boss sitting on the couch, elbows braced on his knees as he leaned forward, sorting through several small items spread over the table. He looked up, silently waiting for her.

She frowned, "Lieutenant Gormley told you the barricaded situation was resolved?"

"He did." The PC nodded and returned his attention to the items on the table, "You can head home, there won't be anything more on that tonight."

Abbey bit on the inside of her lip, confused by the PC's apparent intention to stay in the office, "It's after 10, Sir. You're not going home?"

He exhaled roughly, "Something else has come up."

Instinctively Abbey's shoulders straightened and she let the door fall closed behind her, stepping fully into the office.

The Commissioner sighed and leaned back, a strange, sad twist on his face, "Nicky's been arrested."

Abbey's brow tightened as she tried to understand what he was saying to her, "Nicky? Nicky who?"

Instead of replying the Commissioner just looked back at her pointedly until it clicked.

" _Your_ Nicky?" She blinked in disbelief, "Why? Where?"

His chin dipped to his chest, "The 5-1 in The Bronx. There was cocaine in the car she was driving and none of the kids she was with have come clean about whose it is."

She closed her mouth that had fallen open, "What are we doing?"

He looked back up with tight amusement, "Nothing."

She berated herself internally. Of course he couldn't officially do anything. But something had to be in the works. "A friend of mine from when I was on patrol is up at the 5-1 now. I can call him..." She shrugged, "Maybe Gormley or Garrett or someone else can talk to the Captain? A car of ivy league freshman - it won't take much pressure to get the guilty kid to speak up."

The Commissioner smiled, "Sid's calling George Bennett just to get a clear report of the stop. Jamie's gone to get Erin and bring her to the precinct. There's nothing else to do; I'm just waiting on hope that this could still be resolved tonight. You don't need to stay."

He exhaled and leaned forward again, picking up one of the items from the table. Realizing that they were photos, she stepped closer, "What's all this?"

He glanced up, as if he were startled to see her still there. He shifted in his seat and looked back to the pictures, "Jamie gave me a new wallet for my birthday last month," he gestured to a slim leather fold next to a clearly worn, stretched wallet. "Figured I'd reorganize while I wait."

She stepped closer, smiling at the spread of images, "You carry these all in your wallet?"

He sighed, "I did…" He gestured to the new one, "But this one only has one photo slot. Need to choose." He smiled at the picture in his hand and flipped it over for her to see. A young girl in a tutu and pink frilly hat posed with a gap toothed smile. Abbey grinned, "This has to be from right around when I started working for you."

He nodded, "Her last recital, 2005. Mary was the one to take her to dance lessons when Erin went back to work full time." He pursed his lips, "After Mary got sick, and then the divorce..." He shrugged, "My granddaughter grew up very quickly."

Abbey looked at him, "She's a pretty poised young woman now."

"I don't disagree." He looked up with a bob of his brow, "But in many ways I still see her as this little girl." He picked up another picture. From the side it appeared to be of the whole family on the beach. Abbey judged it to be a much more recent picture based on the heights of the grandkids. "Even before the divorce, her father wasn't around much and Erin leaned pretty heavily on her mom and me. I was spoiled by how much time we got to spend with her. But now I wonder wear did all those years go?"

Abbey smirked, "Every time I think back over the 3 and a half years since Michael was born it seems like time has sped up."

"It does. And then it is a bit of whiplash when you realize your darling, baby granddaughter is suddenly old enough to be pulled over and arrested for drug possession." He grimaced, "Especially when it feels like _this_ was just yesterday."

He held up another, more worn picture. Unable to make it out she accepted the small rectangle from his outstretched hand.

The older picture was of an athletic young man lying on a couch. His eyes were closed, his head pillowed on a thick text book. His dark curls were just long enough to meet the collar of his garish Hawaiian shirt. He was on his side with a toddler in only a diaper tucked against his chest. A boy of about 4 or 5 stood behind him, wheeling a toy truck down the sleeping man's shoulder while a similarly aged girl sat in the tuck behind his legs, holding an infant in an NYPD onesie. A german shepherd sat at the edge of the sofa watching over the group.

A familiar mustache gave her a hint to the identities of the individuals in the photo before the Commissioner leaned over, confirming, "That's Joe in the diaper, he was so sick that day...and Danny there, obviously Jamie's the baby and that's Erin..." He snorted, "I can't believe _she's_ old enough to be driving around the Bronx, never mind having a _daughter_ who is."

Abbey grinned and flipped the picture over, reading the clean, cursive script on the back, " _Frank 'Studying' & 'Babysitting'_"

"What Mary failed to acknowledge there is that I had worked the previous 8 days including two doubles." He sat back into his chair, "I should get credit for inventing the 'everyone stay on the couch' game."

Abbey smirked handing the picture back, "It's a fantastic picture."

He smiled distantly, eyes tracing over the image, locked in his own thoughts.

She looked over the other pictures spread across the table. Some were newer; a posed picture of Jack and Sean in soccer attire, Jamie and Danny both in their blues, Joe holding an infant in one hand and a basketball in another. And there were older ones; a faded picture of a beaming bride being dipped by her grinning groom, 5 young men just wearing fatigue pants and boots, reclining with cigarettes in front of a canvas tent. A picture of a younger Henry in his Chief's uniform and a similarly aged woman standing on either side of a younger image of the Commissioner in detective's blues.

"Which one are you going to keep in the new wallet?" She asked.

He looked up from the picture in his hand and then back to the spread on the table, his face scrunching in uncertainty. His hand hovered over the beach picture then pulled back, moving to the wedding picture then to the one of Joe before looking back to the older picture in his hand, frowning.

She smiled at his indecision,"You know, you could just put them on your phone and keep all of them with you."

He shifted his jaw, looking at her in puzzlement.

"I could scan them." She gestured toward her desk on the other side of the door "It wouldn't take long."

The Commissioner considered it for a beat before leaning forward, shuffling the images together and standing, "How about you show me?"

"Show you?" Abbey blinked.

He gestured for Abbey to lead the way out the door, "I have a lot more than just these that I may want to scan someday."

Abbey smiled, "Of course." She crossed her desk and pulled out the scanner, "I keep it under here but you can connect it to any department computer."

He watched over her shoulder as she turned on the scanner and sent through the first picture. "Easy enough."

She nodded, "Then you can save it to your cloud or connect the phone and just drag and drop."

He blinked, "What about email? Can't I just email them to myself?"

"Sure." She turned back to the scanner so as to obscure her smirk, "You can do that too."

He nodded and crossed his arms, eyes flicking around the room. "You're still reading that?"

Looking back she followed his downward gaze to the book stashed in the top of her bag. She stilled, "You wanted me to, right?"

He took a deep breath, nodding slowly, "Ah, yes…Yes I did." His jaw pulsed, "What…what do you think so far? Garrett's concerns warranted?"

She bit her lip and looked away, feeding another picture into the scanner. "I don't know, Sir."

He winced, "How far have you gotten?"

She looked down, "Maisie Lewis."

He exhaled sharply. "And George Jackson." He leaned heavily against the filing cabinet, "I served a lot personal penance on that one." He tightened his arms around himself, "In someways I still am."

Unsure of how to respond she remained silent, allowing the memory to settle.

The Commission inhaled and glanced at his watch as he kneaded his palm between his thumb and forefinger, mouth pursing, "I normally hate the expression, 'product of his time', it's just an excuse for unacceptable behavior." He released his inhale, "But there is a truth to it. People like Tim Harrington and myself came through the ranks at a time when there were certain norms. It was easy to get complacent. Make assumptions and cut corners based on the location of a crime or the people involved."

"Aren't we all products of our time?" Abbey tilted her head, "You and Detective Harrington may have both come through at the same time but you certainly became different people." She turned back, placing the next picture in the scanner, "And maybe you made some bad mistakes but you've demonstrated how you've learned from them. I mean, you helped write half the patrol guidelines about suspect interrogations."

"As well as the provisions about training officers and probationary periods." He agreed, bending to retrieve the book from where it was nestled in the top of her bag. "Half the trouble Lenny and I got into was because two inexperienced cops were riding around together. You know what a difference a year of experience makes."

Glancing at his watch again he sighed, "40 years under his belt didn't seem to be enough to teach Harrington much."

"Well, he's gone now." She looked up, "I heard he's working out a deal with the DA in order to avoid trial."

He pursed his lips and leaned heavily back again, flipping through the book. "Tim is gone." He nodded, "But he isn't the last of the bad apples. It's only a matter of time until there's another incident and when that book comes out it's going to be near impossible to count on keeping any moral high ground." He closed and tossed the book back into the bag.

"Why?" She blinked, "Because of the George Jackson incident?"

"Don't you think?" He crossed his arms.

Abbey turned in her chair to be able to face him fully, "It wasn't an easy chapter to read but given everything since I don't see how it could be used against you." She shook her head, "I read it as someone who was young and amped up which lead to bad judgement. Anyone who tries to put a racist twist on it is reaching."

He raised his eyebrows, "White cop uses force to coerce false confession out of a black suspect, while ignoring same suspect's potential identification of the actual killer..." He exhaled, "Who just so happens to be white." He hung his head, "It's really not that far of a reach."

"A little girl was murdered." Abbey tried, "The way that Ross tells it, you two were overwrought that shift and what happened had nothing to do with race."

He gave a small bobbing nod, "It didn't. At least not intentionally. But in that neighborhood, in that time, _everything_ had to do with race." He exhaled, "And if you ask someone like Potter, or those kids at Columbia, not much has changed."

She looked down, knowing he was right even as she struggled for justifications to assuage his concerns. She tried shrugging, "Maybe the book won't sell well and no one will ever hear about it."

The Commissioner huffed half a chuckle. "I don't really want to wish that upon Lenny either." He shook his head, "Maybe it's just another notch in the pro retirement column."

Abbey's eyes flicked up to him in alarm but he just shrugged.

Shaking her head she collected the pictures she had finished scanning, "What did you say in the forward you gave to him?"

He glanced at her before blowing out a breath, "I layered in a lot about the department in general and how it's changed to be a reflection of the city over time but the end bit I put in there basically says we are not what we've **done** , but the summation of what we've **learned** from what we've done. I value the times depicted in the book because, for better or for worse, the lessons I learned back then are what have given me the tools to serve in this building."

"Sounds like stately way to try and avoid getting flak for your youthful mistakes." Abbey raised an eyebrow, holding out the pictures.

He opened his mouth then closed it and shrugged a shoulder, "That was the goal." He accepted the pictures back, mumbling, "Hopefully it doesn't come across as that transparent."

She smirked but refrained from replying as the PC pulled out his phone, frowning at a message on the screen.

"What is it?" She straightened.

"Nicky knows who owns the drugs but won't tell." He sighed, pocketing the phone, "Erin had the guys at the 5-1 put her in holding for the night."

Abbey's mouth dropped open, "Why won't she tell?"

"Because she's 19." He muttered heading back toward the door to his office.

"She'll come around." She offered hopefully.

"Maybe." He sighed, "In the meantime, perhaps my daughter should be the one who needs to be reminded about forgiving youthful transgressions."


	70. Proposition

_A/N - Takes place after 'Help Me Help You' and toward the end of 'Friends in Need' - I adored Danny's admission to Linda in HMHY and love Baker's behavior in FiN and thus this chapter was born._

* * *

 _~.~_

 _'_ _The best part of being partnered with Reagan for the first few months at the 2-5 was what happened_ _ **after**_ _tour. Best wing man I ever had._

 _He still held a torch for his ex; enough Finnegan's would have him admitting that he hadn't moved out from his parents because he was still holding out hope of getting back with his girl. But the fact he was still living with his parents meant it was easy to convince him to spend a night on the town._

 _He would lean in with that 'I'm just here to listen' look and flash a dimpled smile and we'd both end up spending quality time with any girls who caught our eyes._

 _One weekend we ended up at the hotel Oswald and there were these two stewardesses at the bar…'_

 _~.~_

Abbey grimaced and closed the book.

Brian glanced up from his laptop, "What?"

"Just some things I don't need to know." She made a face and tossed the book to the nightstand.

Her husband snickered and returned his focus to the computer screen.

She frowned and looked at the clock. "Bri, it's almost 12, how much more do you have to do?"

"That's a question without an answer." He muttered not looking up, "Since _your_ son has decided that peacefully going down for a nap no longer interests him, I've lost that nice window each afternoon."

Abbey sighed and shimmied across the bed, leaning her head on her husband's shoulder, watching his fingers move over the keyboard. "I thought the sitter Garrett suggested was working out?"

"She is." He shifted, not stopping his manipulation of numbers on the screen, "It's...it's just not easy for me to completely relinquish the care of our son to a stranger."

She rolled back and leaned against the headboard. "You do realize you'll need to get over that before he starts pre-school in September? Not to mention staying up past midnight trying to get your work done AND paying a nanny during the day doesn't seem to make much sense."

She frowned at his lack of reaction, "Do you want me to look into taking some vacation time for a week or two?"

Brian rolled his eyes in her direction, "No." He exhaled, dragging a hand down his face. "You're right, he's getting older and I need to figure it out. Take time off if you want to but now that we know the PC is staying in office and you're not going anywhere, you need be sure to save enough of your time bank so we can vacation down the beach this summer."

"If you insist." She pressed a kiss to his shoulder and rolled back to her side of the bed.

"Want me to leave so you can sleep?" He gestured to the light.

She shook her head, "No. I'll stay up, I did say I'd read this so I better get through it."

"Have fun." Brian smirked, returning his attention to his laptop as she picked the book back up.

She exhaled and winced as she returned to the page she had previously closed. She skimmed the following paragraphs where Ross' extolled some flamboyant adventures with co-eds. Now she knew what Rachel Stoffey had meant all those years ago when she had pegged the PC as once being the biggest flirt on the force.

It was entertaining, imagining the straight-laced Commissioner as just another young man in his 20s enjoying the city, but it also made her uncomfortable so she skimmed through until

~.~

 _'Our first Halloween on the job was one for the books._

 _The 'Ladies' were a gaggle of cross-dressing prostitutes who could often be found on the corner of 115_ _th_ _and Morningside Ave. We usually steered clear of them but that night we had orders to keep all potential hijinks off the streets so Reagan and I went down to the park to order The Ladies to clear out for the night._

 _While Ms. Tango was busy trying to convince me I didn't know what I was missing, Reagan tried to get the rest of 'em to scatter. I wasn't paying much attention until I heard a shout and the sound of shattering glass._

 _PCP had only recently started making its way through the city and Reagan and I had just heard stories about its aggressive effects but I knew I was seeing it firsthand when I jogged around the corner._

 _The usually quiet 6'7", 250 pound, Ivanna was standing in front of a shattered plate glass window. She was shouting nonsense and gesticulating wildly, her muscles taut and flexing, her pupils dilated._

 _Scanning the scene, I couldn't find Reagan so I pulled my weapon and shouted at Ivanna to back away. As I approached I was grateful to see Reagan bloodied but holding his revolver and actively attempting to get up and out of the mess of glass she had apparently tossed him into._

 _At first, the large drag queen wasn't showing any signs of backing down, but fortunately, Ms. Tango and the rest of her cohort had followed the drama and successfully persuaded the hopped up Ivanna to run into the park._

 _With the immediate threat cleared, I let her go, turning my attention to my partner._

 _Frank had managed to get to his feet but I didn't expect him to remain that way for long. Rivulets of blood streamed from his head and damp spots darkened his blue uniform._

 _"_ _Let's go." He lurched forward, nearly collapsing before I caught him, careful to avoid the glass shards._

 _"_ _Where? After that drugged up lunatic?"_

 _"_ _Assaulted a police officer." He deadpanned._

 _I slung his arm over my shoulder and eased the revolver out of his hands, "Howbout, we'll deal with that later? Let's try the hospital first."_

 _I managed to maneuver Frank back to the RMP and drove down to Mount Sinai. After turning him over to the emergency room docs I called it in to the sergeant and went to the kitchen to grab a couple turkey sandwiches._

 _By the time I made it back I was grateful to find my partner seemingly much better off than last I saw him. He was sitting up in the bed, long bandages covering some cuts while a doctor continued to stitch a gash on the back of his shoulder._

 _I dropped the sandwich on his lap, "How you doin'?"_

 _He gave me a dopey grimace, "A seven foot guy in a mini skirt just tossed me through a wall of glass."_

 _"They give you meds?" I gestured to the iv._

 _Frank blinked blearily at it as well, nodding, "And a shot of something." He sighed, "I just want to go home and sleep for the next 6 days."_

 _"Let the doc finish putting you together and then we'll see what it takes to break you out of here." I promised, digging into my sandwich._

 _Not much later I was in the middle of attempting to count his stitches when frantic footsteps came through the ward. "Frank? Frank?"_

 _A pretty auburn-brunette came tearing around the corner and paused in the doorway, eyes widening, "Frank…" She breathed._

 _He just blinked dumbly back at her and the following silence was so loaded that even the doctor paused his work to look between them and make eye contact with me._

 _Finally Reagan managed to get over his momentary muteness, "Mary?"_

 _My eyebrows had to have gone through the roof, "Wait. Mary? You're Mary? As in Mary – Mary?"_

 _She looked me over, decided I wasn't worth her time, and immediately returned her attention to Frank whose concussed, drugged brain seemed to be slogging upto speed_

 _"_ _What are you doing here?"_

 _Mary's previous confident energy seemed to ebb and she bit the inside of her lip, stuttering, "I…I was at the church cleaning up the children's Halloween party with your mom…your Dad called…he said you were in the hospital and it was bad…we…we didn't know and I just…I didn't think. I just got in the car with your mom." She pulled on her fingers, "She's parking."_

 _Frank nodded slowly. "I'm okay." He assured._

 _Mary's chin quivered, "You don't look okay."_

 _"_ _I'll_ _ **be**_ _okay." He smirked._

 _She nodded vigorously._

 _The quiet returned and Frank smothered a wince as the doctor finished his business._

 _"_ _It hurt much?" Mary asked._

 _"_ _Nah." He dismissed, eyes tracing her face. "It's good to see you."_

 _Instead of replying, Mary broke down in tears which prompted Frank to try and get to her, only to waiver on the edge of the bed._

 _"_ _Stop. Just stay there." She insisted, stepping closer and guiding him to lean back again._

 _Looking at her hand on his arm he frowned, "Why are you here? I thought something like this happening is exactly why you left."_

 _"_ _I know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She moved her hand to his._

 _His eyebrows climbed and she sighed, "Frank. I left because I was afraid…but it wasn't until tonight that I realized the only thing worse than loosing you would be to miss out on sharing my life with you...however much time that might be." She looked down, "And now I'm just afraid that I'm too late and you've moved on."_

 _I couldn't contain my snort, immediately reminding them both they weren't alone._

 _I winced in the face of Mary's glare but had to shrug, "Sorry, but the thought of Franky having moved on is one of the funniest things I've ever heard." I looked at my partner, "Sorry brother."_

 _He took a deep breath, "He's right." He tightened his fingers around hers._

 _She smiled, "Really?"_

 _"_ _Really." He grinned._

 _Mary leaned forward, kissing him lightly. Frank reached up, deepening it._

 _Mary pulled back, "So is that a yes?"_

 _"_ _What was the question?" Frank blinked._

 _She smiled and looked down, "Spend the rest of our lives together?"_

 _Frank stared at her dumbly, "Wait. Are_ _ **you**_ _asking_ _ **me**_ _to marry you?_ _ **Here**_ _? **Now**?"_

 _"_ _That's what we were on the verge of before I screwed it up, right?" She asked, her confidence wavering, "I understand if you need more time but I'm serious about not wanting waste another minute. We've already lost all that time with the marines and these last 10 months we've only been blocks apart and when I think all that..."_

 _Frank leaned up, cutting her off with another kiss._

 _"G_ _ood to see you're not as bad off as your father made it seem." They broke apart at the sound of Mrs. Reagan entering the room._

 _Frank coughed and blushed._

 _Mrs. Reagan stepped up to the bed, eyes tracing the bandages and IV line before dropping a quick kiss to his forehead, "You're okay?"_

 _"_ _Great." Frank straightened in the bed, "_ Can you do me a favor? _Can you go back to the house? There's a small box in the bottom of my sock drawer. Can you bring that back?"_

 _Betty Reagan looked between her son and the young woman embracing him, "It's about time."_

 _And that's how my partner was proposed to by his wife thanks to a giant drag queen on Halloween strength PCP...'_

 _~.~_

"27:43." Linda read off her stop watch as Abbey and Erin crossed the 5k marker together.

"Damn…" Abbey breathed heavily, pressing her sides and looking up, "Coming back from the winter months sucks."

Erin nodded, catching her breath, "Apparently not for Linda." She took a sip from her water, "What was your time?"

"26:28." She smiled, starting the cool down lap. "While you two have been sitting at desks all winter I've been on my feet at work not to mention PT."

"Well it's certainly paid off." Erin shook her head, "I think you're in better shape now than last year at this time.

Linda winced, "I'd give that minute of speed back in exchange for not having to go through the last 9 months."

Abbey snorted, " _That_ I can empathize with."

Erin tilted her head prompting Abbey to explain, "My rehab involved doing a lot of squats. I went down two dress sizes and definitely got stronger but I'd trade in my entire wardrobe to not have been in PT to begin with."

"What were you in reahab for?" Erin blinked.

"Oh, uh, I was shot just above my knee. Long time ago." Abbey brushed off, "Before I worked for your father."

"Oh." Erin's mouth tightened and she continued looking over.

Abbey's stomach clenched and she turned to Linda, changing the subject before Erin could articulate whatever follow-up question she was thinking.

"How're things with Danny?" She smiled, "Have you been able to get him to go to any more sessions with you since the holidays?"

Linda laughed, "Oh no." She shook her head, "I count myself lucky he agreed to as much as he did." She smiled before sighing, "But I've kept it up and it's getting better. It's a process, you know? A lot of things that used to be natural now need to be a conscious choice, but it's getting easier." She rolled her shoulders and stopped walking, leaning against the railing that separated the walkway from the river.

"Actually, we had a fight last week." She shrugged at Erin's rolling eyes, "But it was a good one. He ended up finally admitting how much the whole incident threw _him_ for a loop. That it wasn't just me who was affected."

"Really?" Erin blinked in disbelief.

"Really." Linda nodded, smiling, "You know how it is; we snap at each other every now and then. I always knew for me it was out of fear for him and he finally admitted he was dealing with the fear of losing me."

She paused, internally reliving the memory, her love for her husband clear in her expression. She blinked back to the present and shrugged, "It was good. We had an honest talk about valuing the times we're together and I think we're in a real good place now."

Erin bit her lip and gave her sister-in-law a one-armed hug. "Good. Glad you got my stubborn brother to finally open up."

"He really is very sweet sometimes." Linda insisted, giggling when Erin rolled her eyes and pulled her arm away.

"It sounds very sweet." Abbey grinned, "It's actually kind of reminiscent of the whole thing between your parents." She gestured to Erin.

As opposed to nodding in understanding as Abbey expected, Erin frowned, "What are you talking about?"

Abbey hesitated, confused by Erin's confusion and suddenly getting the feeling that she stepped where she shouldn't have. "The whole thing where she was afraid of losing him but then came back because she realized that missing out on time together was worse?"

"'Came back'? What are you talking about?" Erin crossed her arms and Abbey felt the blush rise up her neck as she began to realize her blunder.

"What do you know of how your parents got engaged?" She asked tentatively.

Linda looked to Erin whose face was scrunched in confusion and then back to Abbey, "What do _you_ know about it?"

"And _how?_ " Erin put her hands on her hips and glanced over the river in the direction of Manhattan as if she could see 1PP, "I can't imagine the subject comes up much in the office."

Abbey winced, "No…just…The Commissioner's old partner wrote a book and he gave it to me to read so –"

"Wait!" Erin cut her off, "Lenny's book? Dad gave _you_ Lenny's book?"

"Oh my god." Linda straightened and pushed away from the rail, "That's been driving Danny crazy! He's been dying to read it! You have it?"

Abbey exhaled realizing the colossal size of her mistake, "Yes…but just because the PC and DCPI had some fights about it and I was asked to form an impartial opinion." She shrugged, "It's honestly a work assignment."

"Oh bull." Erin shook her head, "Where is it now? What's in it? Can I borrow it?"

In a flash Abbey recalled the chapters recounting some of the less than stellar behavior in the Academy and on the streets and then the pages of various off-duty trysts and she winced, "I really don't think you want to…"

"Oh my god; that means it's good." Linda gloated.

Abbey rolled her eyes, "No, it's just…" She shrugged, "It was the 70s, they were young guys in their 20s just back from Vietnam and the department and the city were a mess and…" She grimaced, "I can see why he'd be uncomfortable with his kids reading it." She shook her head, "And if I'm being honest, _I_ have been uncomfortable with a good deal of it."

Erin smirked, "You do realize I can guarantee at least 3 copies are going to be sold to people from around our dinner table the first day this book is published?"

"I'm under the impression that Ross agreed to make some changes to some of the more personal passages for that reason." Abbey smiled in return.

"Now you're just being mean." Linda chided.

Erin waived it off, "Alright, so what's this about my parents' engagement?"

Abbey sighed and leaned against the back of a wooden bench, "According to the book, your mom was upset that your dad went to the police academy after coming back from Vietnam. But there was an incident that landed your dad in the hospital and that was enough for your mom to realize that even if she might lose him someday she didn't want to waste time apart."

She shrugged, "I just read that chapter last night and it reminded me of what you were talking about with Danny." She gestured to Linda.

"Yeah; that about covers it." Linda nodded solemnly.

Erin wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing away goosebumps on her arms, "I never knew that."

Linda leaned her shoulder against her arm.

Erin bit down on her lip and looked over the water, "Kind of ironic I guess that after all that fear _he's_ the one who ended up loosing _her_."

Linda visibly shivered and the three ladies remained quiet for a moment.

"C'mon." Linda broke the silence, "It's not spring yet; it's too cold to just be standing here. Coffee?"

"Good call." Erin agreed, following.

Abbey hesitated but jumped into step along with them, "I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"Don't be." Erin, waived it off, "It's not your fault that Dad is tight lipped about everything."

Linda frowned, "Makes me realize though, it's been 10 years."

"I know." Erin nodded.

"I know you do." Linda shrugged, "I just mean even last fall when we all went to the cemetery together I didn't really think about how it must be for Frank." She grinned and sashayed, "We should set him up with someone."

Abbey stifled a cough and Erin groaned, "I think I have enough of my own problems in that area, I'm not about to go meddling for him."

Linda chuckled, "Oh come on now. What about Melanie?"

"What?" "Who?"

"That reporter he was seeing." Linda smiled, "Think they still have something going on?"

Abbey frowned, her brain clicking through whatever Linda might be talking about… "Wait, Melanie _Maines_?"

"Oops." Linda and Erin both giggled as Abbey's jaw dropped open.

"Oh my _god.._.She showed up to the office a few years back and I was _so_ confused about why he was meeting with her without the DCPI!" Abbey began putting the pieces together, frowning and shaking her head, "BUT I don't think they see each other anymore."

"No?" "Why not?" The grins fell off the other women's faces.

Abbey grimaced, trying to remember. "He was on his cell arguing with someone after he gave the interview to Anne Farrell last year. Something about not being entitled to anything and then the DCPI was angry at him for blowing off CNN. The Commissioner said it was just one reporter, not the whole network and then had me cancel his rsvp to the Governor's arts and media reception." She shrugged, "And this year's invitation never even got put on the calendar."

"Oh that does sound bad." Linda agreed. She exhaled and looked the Erin, "Okay, who else?"

"Stop it." Erin shot back. "I'm not doing this."

"I thought you were on my side with this." Linda pouted, "It's Danny whose the squeamish one."

"Enjoying making my brother squirm is one thing." Erin shook her head, "Actively trying to hook Dad up with someone is a different thing all together."

"All he does is work and read." Linda prodded, "He needs someone to spend time with; you know a chat...a cuddle."

"If you don't stop I'm going to toss you in the river." Erin threatened with a scowl.

Linda giggled.

Erin rolled her eyes but sighed, "It's not that I disagree. I've tried talking to him about how he should try having a life but he always turned it around on me so I'm out. He's a grown man and can figure it out on his own."

"Well, fine." Linda looked around Erin to Abbey, "You're on my side though, right? You don't want your boss to be lonely, do you?"

Abbey winced. Thinking back over the years and all the little things she shouldn't have witnessed she knew the PC hadn't exactly remained celibate but he was incredibly discrete and probably wouldn't welcome any help in the area.

Still, Lenny's book was leaving her feeling a little sappy and sympathetic so she sent Linda a smile.

"I'll keep my eyes and ears open."

* * *

"Um. Detective...Excuse me?" Abbey looked up from her computer at the sound of a proper British accent.

She blinked in surprise, not having expected to see the London chief again, "Hello Commander."

"Hi, ...Baker, is it?" Far from the curt confidence the woman had carried herself over the first half of the week, the redhead now nervously fidgeted with the edge of her attaché case.

Frowning, Abbey nodded, "Yes, what can I do for you?"

The other woman glanced to the closed office doors, "I was hoping, perhaps, for a brief moment of the Commissioner's time."

Abbey looked toward the elevator, expecting to see the other members of the British delegation.

"It's just me." Thompson straightened, "I understand if he'd rather not, and I know I should have called, but…"

Abbey shook her head and held up a hand, "No, Ma'am. It's fine." She smiled and gestured to Jim's empty desk, "It's just that he's not here at the moment."

"Oh…" She slouched slightly, "Oh. Okay. I see."

Glancing at the time stamp from the last status text from Jim, Abbey smiled, "He's on his way back if you'd like to wait."

"Well…" She shifted and nodded, "Okay, I suppose."

Abbey gestured to the chair next to her desk and the Commander sat stiffly.

"Is that your son?" She gestured to the picture frame tucked next to the monitor.

"Yes." Abbey smiled pulling it out and handing it over, "Michael; and my husband, Brian."

"Ah. Lovely." Thompson smiled politely and handed the picture back.

Abbey fidgeted, the tension from the other woman was making the silence uncomfortable. "Do you have any children?"

"Me? Oh – no." The Commander shook her head then winced, "Not that children aren't lovely and I would've…I just…" She exhaled and collected herself with a wince. "Let's just say that I fit the cliche of being married to my job." She gave a weak smile, "I'm sure you can understand being passionate about one's work and I've found that passion tied with my tendencies to be a tad argumentative doesn't exactly endear me to most men."

She exhaled, muttering to herself, "Which is how I ended in this dreadful situation."

Abbey swallowed a sympathetic smile, "What exactly did you need to speak with the Commissioner about?"

Commander Thompson shifted and shook her head, "You know what actually? I really should not impose on anymore of his time." Standing, she looked back to Abbey, "I just wanted to apologize for my earlier behavior, perhaps you could just pass along that I was here."

Abbey stood too, "Wait, you don't need to leave."

"Oh I'm fairly certain I should."

Abbey shot a quick text to Jim, _'eta?'_ and came around the desk, following the Commander to the stairs.

"I promise you that unless you ridiculed the department that you have absolutely nothing to apologize for in the eyes of the Commissioner."

Thompson pulled up short, "Oh of course not. I would never." She shook her head, "I was just very pushy and have been told I was entirely out of line."

"You're fine." Abbey tried smiling comfortingly, "Trust me; the commissioner enjoys working with people who are passionate." She shrugged, "You'd have more to apologize for if you were simply a pushover."

"Well, perhaps Commissioner Reagan is more understanding then those I typically work with, but still, I should go." She continued down the stairs, "I imagine he'd see me and assume another argument was forthcoming and I'd like to spare us each the discomfort."

Abbey followed her down the hall, "I was told it was a positive and productive visit, I'd hate for you to feel you need to leave thinking otherwise."

"Regardless." Thompson shook her head.

"Well I'm sorry you won't stay." Abbey tried one more time.

"No." Thompson dismissed, "And I should have called."

Abbey felt the buzz of her phone and smiled, knowing it was Jim's reply, "He should be here any minute."

The Commander pulled up to the elevator, "If you could let the commissioner know, I'll…"

The elevator dinged and opened, revealing Jim and the PC.

"No need." Abbey grinned, pleased the other woman wouldn't be leaving the building thinking so lowly of her interaction with PC; his welcoming expression at seeing her vindicated Abbey's suspicions that the Commander's doubts were unfounded.

She waited long enough to confirm the PC wouldn't be asking anything of her before returning up the stairs.

A few minutes later the Commissioner stopped in front of her desk, pulling off his ball cap and running a hand through his hair.

"What was that about?"

She looked up, "Didn't Commander Thompson explain?"

"She did." He nodded, "I'm talking about you."

Abbey blinked and shook her head, "It was nothing sir. She seemed apprehensive and I wanted to make sure she had a chance to talk with you before she left."

"Okay." He narrowed his eyes at her for a beat before nodding, looking down then glancing up, "She works with a couple of cads." He shook his head, "Making her feel like she needs to apologize for looking out for her department…They're lucky they don't realize she could mop the floor with them."

Abbey snickered and the PC shrugged, "Well. Moving on. What's next?"

Abbey didn't give anymore thought about the Commander until Monday when the Commissioner called her into his office.

"Do you have the schedule of the Brit's visit?"

She tilted her head, confused, "From last week?"

"The whole thing," He gestured, "How long they're supposed to be here and DC."

Abbey frowned, "No, I don't have that." She grimaced, trying to recall the conversations she had setting up the trip, "I do know the DC leg of the trip was a good deal longer than New York. I think they might be there through Wednesday."

"Do me a favor…" He leaned back in his chair, absently spinning the ring on his left hand, "Call the London office and see if Commander Thompson is still in New York."

Abbey blinked, a thousand implications appearing out of nowhere in the back of her mind. "Sir?"

"It's just a question, Baker." He straightened, "She may have ended up joining them in DC or heading back to her city instead of wasting time alone in a hotel room." He shrugged, "But if she's still here perhaps we can make something productive of the visit."

"Yes...Sir." Abbey began to smile as she exited the room and picked up the phone to call the London office. She was unable to contain the spark of glee that ran through her when Thompson's assistant confirmed she was still in town.

The previous week Abbey had only been humoring Linda; She had held no real intent to play matchmaker for the Commissioner, but it was near impossible to ignore a smart, strong-willed woman who loved police work and happened to be in town with nothing to do.

It had taken all her self-restraint to not roll her eyes at the commissioner's insistence that he was only interested in a working meeting. Abbey supposed she understood his attempt at professionalism; he wasn't about to admit to her he had any interest in anything more than a meeting. In fact, it fit with his pattern – he used to have dinner meetings with the Inspector General; she had even called him out on it in the conversation Abbey had overheard at the Grammercy Tavern a few years back.

She sighed as she sat down, flicking the paper with Sloan Thompson's _mobile_ number on it. The Grammercy Tavern...The Commissioner already knew she had a particular interpretation of his intentions; she wondered if he would be resentful or appreciative if she made the reservation for his 'meeting' with the Commander at the intimate tavern...


End file.
